Nag

Michael J. Schaeffer

12/3/2017

Nag

Its the Morning and Their is No Rain. The Rain here can be Wild and Wicked. Never Ending. Long and Divided. The Days. The Nights. The Rain is not even of a Tropical Kind. More like a Natural Release and No Form of Pure Heat. Beauty and Mystique. A Mystery or a Essential Skills that are a Lore. This Mysterious Place is All New. As this Darkling Deep Shadowy Place becomes Home with its Nags. Habitual Hounds. They are on My Heels as I Run or Drive in the Heavy Rain. Beauty and Mystique. Pure Heat. A Natural Release. The Hounds are Essential. The Hounds are Skilled. Never Ending. Long and Divided. Creed and Honor. Even Before the Age of 15. Love and Loss, but the Hounds Continue to Nag and Shadow. The Mind is Fixed and Overly Focused and then the Rain gives You Skills. The Skills to Release, Surge and Charge. The Hell Spawn is Yours and the Hell Hounds begin to Love You Even More as a Equal and Friend...

M.J.S.

  • Author: MJS (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 5th, 2017 04:10
  • Comment from author about the poem: The Hell Hounds, Robert Johnson, Spawn the Comic. Dark but Fun to Play with. Rainy Weather and a New Town. Life can Nag at You sometimes...
  • Category: Fantasy
  • Views: 3
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