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Loading ...it suddenly creeps me, a wooden quintain
just the fist I miss, or about the mist I’ll blitz?
a cling to the air, my last thirst
a draw was revealed, but was the first I redeem?
the shade is there, but what?
sighing to the ground, I’m hung on tears
what’s this prejudice I can’t recall?
The stars stabbed me on dream, yet
calls a moon to howl for a downed-Droon
not a precious gift
it causes a harder sorrow, when we
hold our dear most tightly I fear
same still, reminiscing
what’s this swiftly-blink I can’t recall?
Now my sword of hope lasts hone
a shield for someone, my dear
still I can’t recall
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Last 5 posts by Raxen
- Cermin Pecah - October 13th, 2009
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