Saturday, June 26, 2010

Cut Glass

One of my favorite poems that I wrote in High School. Liked enough, I drew around it. Unfortunately, the images are not original-- I was looking at a couple of book pictures and drew the parts that I liked together because I thought they worked.

Cut Glass

Shadows of reality-
Fragments of dreams.
In such,
Do we possess that which we can not

Swirling mists-
Rippling fogs,
Emotion with no form twisting the
Powers which no man possess in our grasp.

The pulse of the earth beneath the
ancient hunter's feet,
His soul souring through the heavens,
His body dancing the rhythms of his ancestors,
Calling to the spirits to bring the joy.

Undead blood thirst-
Angel's guiding light,
Masters of the dream world-
Wanderers of the night.

Visions of things yet to come-
Transportation within the mind,
Words that go unspoken
-Yet are heard.

Passing between life and death-
Formed yet not formed,
Real but not real,
Like images seen through cut glass.

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