I remember the pain
Not in degree as much
Time with healing hands
Caressed my soul as such
An inner eye a wanton thought
The things we said
Now distant
Taut.
A stretching line
That feeds two points
The past the present
Time anoints
The cold wind on
A Winters day
The warming breeze
In Summers sway.
The distant echo
Within my dreams
The violent sky
In thunder screams
Wild and strong
Deep and aflame
A beautiful thing
In loves cruel game.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: February 23rd, 2026 03:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Within these lines lies the distance between two in a relationship. There is the positive and negative the duality that yin and yang of nature. The warmth and the cold. Nicely composed and with great flow a fave
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.