A sonnet.
No great amount of locks could scare away
Such dawn to rise upon the skies and rocks
To shed the masked light upon the day;
He may, with sly and cunning, leave his mark
Upon your burning house where you may sleep;
The flame, it tries too hard to light the hark,
In vain, to fight the rain, and thus, to weep
To you, the torch, a penny-worth to save
I cannot stress the duty one must bear
It draws a map to find one's self a grave
But then again you find graves everywhere
Aside, no mind the soft amount you torch
Tomorrow shall lie ever on your porch
Sonnet by weirdzarun
Read 627 times
Written on 2008-06-25 at 07:54
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Tomorrow's Box
Tomorrow always comes inside a boxNo great amount of locks could scare away
Such dawn to rise upon the skies and rocks
To shed the masked light upon the day;
He may, with sly and cunning, leave his mark
Upon your burning house where you may sleep;
The flame, it tries too hard to light the hark,
In vain, to fight the rain, and thus, to weep
To you, the torch, a penny-worth to save
I cannot stress the duty one must bear
It draws a map to find one's self a grave
But then again you find graves everywhere
Aside, no mind the soft amount you torch
Tomorrow shall lie ever on your porch
Sonnet by weirdzarun
Read 627 times
Written on 2008-06-25 at 07:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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