As the rain patters against the roof
The chilly wind kisses my skin
The night pulls me out of the room
Welcoming me with a white so dim
As I try to hear nature among the noise
The murmurs of folks
A cracking singing voice
The shouts of drunk boisterous oafs
I hear my longing
I feel the creeping fear
A spot of candle lighting
An orange shy and sheer
I embrace the disturbing peace
As I witness dark clouds devour the moon
O the rocks to go through to reach the seas
I always shed a tear too soon
YOU ARE READING
Hurled Thoughts
PoetryWe hurl thoughts like we breathe every gust of wind... To the words never spoken. To the thoughts I have forgotten.
