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Poetry News Post #843

Maybe

Written by: Opportunist Silverstorm Grand Angel of Freedom
Date: Tuesday, October 2nd, 2001
Addressed to: Everyone


Falling in the embrace of our love
Tis not the touch of a lover
Feeling cold, worn out, tired
Struggling my weaknesses to cover

The promises I made hold strong
Yet lie shattered on the ground like shards
I asked once, will I ever feel again?
The frailty of a tower built of cards

And then the wind's soft breath brushed past my cheek
The dryness of my tears lay unbroken
Until the breeze's gentle, shy, wild kiss
Gave birth to that one tear, my lost token

When did I learn to cry again?
When did the feelings come to haunt...
I have been dead for many years...
The wind's mild kiss a wicked taunt

My life springs fully within me
The heart that was torn out lies bleeding
A new one grew with frightful force
The winds spoke of my winter's end, unheeding

Why won't you let me live, or die?
You wish for me to feel... then let me cry!
I stand between my life and death, not either
But call... and in the night to you I'll fly...

To someone who will most likely never read this...

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Aeguary, in the year 288 AF.


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Poetry News Post #843

Maybe

Written by: Opportunist Silverstorm Grand Angel of Freedom
Date: Tuesday, October 2nd, 2001
Addressed to: Everyone


Falling in the embrace of our love
Tis not the touch of a lover
Feeling cold, worn out, tired
Struggling my weaknesses to cover

The promises I made hold strong
Yet lie shattered on the ground like shards
I asked once, will I ever feel again?
The frailty of a tower built of cards

And then the wind's soft breath brushed past my cheek
The dryness of my tears lay unbroken
Until the breeze's gentle, shy, wild kiss
Gave birth to that one tear, my lost token

When did I learn to cry again?
When did the feelings come to haunt...
I have been dead for many years...
The wind's mild kiss a wicked taunt

My life springs fully within me
The heart that was torn out lies bleeding
A new one grew with frightful force
The winds spoke of my winter's end, unheeding

Why won't you let me live, or die?
You wish for me to feel... then let me cry!
I stand between my life and death, not either
But call... and in the night to you I'll fly...

To someone who will most likely never read this...

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Aeguary, in the year 288 AF.


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