An adventure of self-discovery. - 24th November 2010.
To set fire to what we haven't seen;
Set before us,
We thought the silver side was hot.
The tears of proof slumber,
Quitting at the horizon.
We haven't heard from salvation
In the time that's gone.
The packing could come as pain,
Or perfect satire;
It could have audacity
To play a game.
Memory could damage the mind,
Infactuated signs;
The capability to design
A world which can breathe.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
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Written on 2010-11-24 at 23:39
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Reprieve.
That shrivelled glass keenTo set fire to what we haven't seen;
Set before us,
We thought the silver side was hot.
The tears of proof slumber,
Quitting at the horizon.
We haven't heard from salvation
In the time that's gone.
The packing could come as pain,
Or perfect satire;
It could have audacity
To play a game.
Memory could damage the mind,
Infactuated signs;
The capability to design
A world which can breathe.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 831 times
Written on 2010-11-24 at 23:39
Tags Life 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
existence |
shells |
Texts |
by John Ashleigh Latest textsDesignDylan. In between love. Transcend. Fingertips. My favoritesNightlightPhoenix Seulement One Week from Tomorrow. Betrayed |
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