PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In unblemished irish, 
the vision was a link 
in blankness of thoughts, when 
I was weaving a dream 
around you. 

Your cameo appearance 
in flurry of tears, 
rips apart my landscape. 

The other moon wails behind the clouds. 

In androgynous past, 
you want to separate the sandwoods. 
Death comes as a long sleep. 

Your thick braid moves 
like a reptile. 

I have stopped scripting 
the letters. Words float on the 
carpeted domes. 

Rains would not come tonight.