Destiny
Ozian moons – that hover over dark viridian planets
moving in slow gestures around a seething sun
in Orion's gleaming belt,
a belt with a sword that always elects my meeting with nights,
a hunter that follows me
every time I refind myself in late twilight,
– turn my final days like fiends heart felt.
The intensity will not lie down and be
what pure physics demands.
I will not.
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2009-01-04 at 00:24
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melanie sue |
Rob Graber |
Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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