Standing beneath the tree, Waiting in silence, Glancing at my feet, Watching the clouds go by.
The seconds drift, The clock turns, I've seen all for nothing, Your shadow never came.
Hush, wait, Is that a sound? Pitter, patter, The tears of mine.
Like an arrow through thine heart, A whisper of a dream, The memory fades, Never to be reminsced again.
So I've started anew, All thoughts of past erased, Clutching the bottle of remembrance, Mighty a throw into the deep, Swayed into the dark black, Are my memories, Of you.
{c} NANA. emo poete societe.}
NO RIPPING, OR CHOKE TO DEATH.
The Poet
Hullos, Lacrith here.
011194, she's still writing her poems till she dies.
She's in love with literature, music and art.
Listen, she detests rippers.
Once rippers have been found, she shall put a password over this blog,
And the culprit will be caught. Beware.
Currently short on muse, pardon her for the meagre updates on this blog.At the moment, she'sdying of pain.
Standing beneath the tree, Waiting in silence, Glancing at my feet, Watching the clouds go by.
The seconds drift, The clock turns, I've seen all for nothing, Your shadow never came.
Hush, wait, Is that a sound? Pitter, patter, The tears of mine.
Like an arrow through thine heart, A whisper of a dream, The memory fades, Never to be reminsced again.
So I've started anew, All thoughts of past erased, Clutching the bottle of remembrance, Mighty a throw into the deep, Swayed into the dark black, Are my memories, Of you.
