Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Tuesday, February 05, 2013

The Poet's Soul

What is this that holds my heart,
tethered in restraint? 
Still like the darkness, the 
feelings I cannot shake. 

I trembled from the  thought, 
it weakened me so, 
as if the night  cast shadows,
that danced upon the wall. 

The chapters merge together 
and no time can I see, 
for yesterday is gone 
and tomorrow is a dream. 

My soul speaks in riddles,
my heart can't understand,
for is it  responsibility or 
some awful written plan?


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