I search deep inside your soul
but respect your dignity
—–
the eyes the gate way before me
do I have the right key
—–
I tap on the heart and ask to be seen
it beats a tune
of door bell ringing
—–
slowly I give up
and go on my way
——
as your soul has left
and gone away
—–
my heart will call
another day
—–
love can wait
for destiny
——
its not time for wedding ring.
Wandering through darkness
in search of light of day
—-
the eerieness of tranquility
whilst night creatures hunt there prey
—–
dampness of mist
shrouds my way
—–
tricks of the mind start to play
darkness of night
searching for day
—–
is there a point
is there a way
—–
a momentry glance
I am lost in foggy haze.
If I were a poet
would you listen to me
—–
as I tell you my story and my philsophy
would you believe every word I say
fact or fiction
rhyming away
——
or would you put me in stocks
and throw rotten cabbages and food at me
like in medievel history
——-
or would it be to gallows and beheading for me
for treason of going against rules laid down by the king
——
thats the beauty of fiction and writing
it may be a poem it may be a play
rhyming to life in a beautiful way
—–
would you listen to me if it was a poetic play
or tear it up and throw it away
if I were a poet a poet one day
I write poetry of true life experiences some say
the imagination wanders and writes away
——
I read something written by you
my words start to flow
with a strong current to
——
dont get caught in the whirlpool or the eddy
as tide turns
i’ll drag you out to sea
——-
you soon sea your demise
and wish you handnt met me
I am as high as the mountains
and very watery
———
while your above the surface
but you cant see beneath
——
its cold dark and gloomy
no hope only despair
once your in and under your going nowhere
——–
life you once new
is memory up there
swallowed up by the sea
no witnesses there
is this a story or a play
Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.
Brett Kristian
Pen to paper.
Just a small town girl who writes about Christian stuff.
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