Stable
Stable the night.
It seems so well.
As the Daughters
and Sons
are turned and spun.
Like extant tops,
They slowed and fell.
Trapped in dreams
That came to them,
They yearn to be
spun again.
For the Daughters
And Sons,
This is their hell
In the Stable of night
That seemed so well.
Poetry by melanie sue
Read 708 times
Written on 2011-03-05 at 04:29
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