Within heed.
The consciousness is strange to me,The rain howls in plains.
Nature turns it's back on me,
Please stop playing these games.
I want to know where I stand,
The grass is greener than before.
Perhaps all I need from you,
Is to entice, and to allure.
The consciousness is blindly free,
The snow distorts to black.
Everything is set to be,
I'm a pawn under attack.
Traces of forbidden truth,
A lie that I may have told.
Guilt strikes me another one,
And has kept me in a hold.
The consciousness to a new degree,
Thunder gasps for air.
My mind is not fixed - seemingly,
Even Jesus does not care.
An early dawn comes to light,
Treading on accrual finds.
Am I doing it just in spite,
I really want to cross those lines.
The consciousness is named 'a creep',
The rain taps on pine.
I lay into paradoxical sleep,
I'll find myself in time.
The sand curls over my feet,
I don't think I can move.
My motion has gone into delete,
Contrary to a common noose.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1038 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2010-11-15 at 18:10
Tags Change  Life 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
NicholasG |
Nils Teodor |
Editorial Team |
existence |
learnings |
Texts |
by John Ashleigh Latest textsDesignDylan. In between love. Transcend. Fingertips. My favoritesNightlightPhoenix Seulement One Week from Tomorrow. Betrayed |
Increase font
Decrease