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margaret-schachte
middle earth Just an amateur librarian adventurer on a quest for wisdom and knowledge.
In a hand Soft and small A deadly band To rule them all My Master calls Please don't let go From hand I fall Must this be so? Down I go Through dark and deep Towards fire And never ending sleep The fire, it melts My soul destroyed My hope is gone Here comes the void For ever and after Thus we remain My Master and I No longer twain
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
No Longer Twain
The poem is a careless word that's thrown upon the page, While feelings and emotions, they take the center stage. The words, they seem important - but at the end of day, 'Tis not the words themselves but the meaning they convey.
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Poem
Never will anyone read what her heart wrote, Nor people tell of the Dragons that were slain. But stories they were written.... And stories they remain. And even if in this ravaged world all hint of them is lost, They will never truly fade..... For they bloomed within a young girl's heart, And there they shall remain.
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:08 PM UTC
The Writing Girl
The Words you've never spoken The tears you've never cried The hopes and fears of all those years Have finally run dry How far away you seem now How vacant is your face Your body's here beside me Of you there's not a trace How long will you keep hiding Your secret self from me If only you would let go And drop yourself on me
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:02 PM UTC
Alone Together