literature

Gray Serenade

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Literature Text

Ice sat down hard on the edge of a tall building.
The roof of the space needle to be most exact.
She had gone numb in her extremeties.
There was no reminder of life in her body.
No proof that she wasn't anymore than a thoughtless spirit,
roaming and watching alone.
She had only watchings.
Her feeling had drained away long ago,leaving
her ponderings sharper than a sword,and cold as
the steel that make it.She analyzed everythng
she saw and did,like a lifeless computer,analyzing
the same data,and over again.
Machinations
dry as her humor,
and thoughts
as dark as her wit,
not many could light a fire in the winter
of her heart.
Of My Heart.
Warmed for an hour with the brief flickering light of
a candle,I saw true happiness for only a second.
I'll miss that sight for the rest of my time.
The little bright grains of sand in a black hourglass,
so shined my life against the night sky.
For so long a tie,makes a thin anchor.
So easily broken,most would think barely worth the trouble.
That rope held to my world with the force of an iron chain.
An iron chain made of spun glass,
to shatter and shower
my life
with tiny bits of hurt,falling white stars,
blind heat leaving
behind ice of the same hue.An icy ghost,once found by the warm light
of a living soul will always yearn for the light after passing.
I apologize.Maybe this doesn't make any sense to you.
Don't feel too bad.
A glimpse into my mind,
my own private world of snow and winter,
is not a sight for the sane.
.

Whoa.
EDDIT.
Appreantly I'm only a poet when I'm sad.
© 2011 - 2024 RainFyre
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