contemplation
most wretched are cradled into poetry by wrong, they learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Breathless..
Treading on unknown paths,
I saw the murky alley close up on me,
Choking up the breath,
The darkness as dark as devil himself,
Grey walls streaked with blood,
The smell ominous and path slippery...
Newer Posts
Older Posts
Home
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)