Gone

Ever after more is a voice
to be sought in wells and swells
of whatever faces you.

This I is like electricity, like
the flittering of fires
fed with continuation.

The mustering of to be
is a constant battle
in dormant sleep's hall.

All is fleeting feverish fern
whisking whispering present
on it s way to oblivion.




Poetry by Bob
Read 496 times
Written on 2011-01-22 at 02:03

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Rik The PoetBay support member heart!
The battle of the voices of the mind. They never rest and often only agitate and and frustrate the search for tranquility. Well that's my observation :-) Thanks for posting and providing food for thought. Enjoyed the read.
2011-01-23