or sign in with e-mail
Don't have an account? Register Here!
by Linda Feb 7, 2020
To pay a price, this price to pay,
A sacrifice below to lay.
Falling short, no length to spare,
the riches, the riches, they are all there.
The laugh, the laugh it's loud and soundly.
The cry, the cry, it's deep and lonely.
Her soul, her soul, it sleeps for you,
Wake it, Wake it, it shall rise too.
Today, today, it's not tomorrow,
Yesterday promised, but still it follows.
When The moon strikes starkly white,
That's when the treasure comes out at night.
Swaying words, the devils tongue,
He speaks, She shudders, what may come?
Forge ahead, but stuck right there,
The moon come shine, the night is near.
The dawn it rises, the fog is vast,
The shadows hang, but never last.
The light feels good, the warmth enthralls, but there she waits for night to fall.
Her dress, it spins like sugar floss,
She screams a scream, so sadly lost.
The air is dry and cold to breathe,
the clouds are dark, cumulous beads.
Then the water drips and settles, stagnant pools of moss and petals.
A needless waste of energy lost,
that stagnant pool, that pool of moss.
For fleeting moments she feels the freeze,
For longer times she guards her needs.
For sorrow is what she knows a lot,
For always is how she lost the plot.
The folly looms, the emotion raw,
The betrayal deep, the scratch,
In great feats she strides ahead,
But there it is, it stops her dead.
Upon her wish she cries out shame,
once again, An unfair game.
All things aside, She wants to love, but then there's that, it can't be done.
A lioness who wears a crown,
but the bits are broken, all torn down.
Shreds are strewn, corners ripped, broken down, pieces...chips.
A dark night of soul is where it sits,
A plague of ghostly black misfits.
A proper stare, A glare in fact,
A fire, a fire, of wrong mishaps.