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Faith Montgomery Feb 2014
A cloud is gallantly rolling over the sun,
They look up just in time to wince,

As a light rain starts to fall upon their cheeks.
Taking a deep inhale then slowly releasing it.

He concentrates at his target,
With  a low grunt the ball leaves his hand,
And a thunderous crack sounded throughout the crowd.
The game has begun.
Faith Montgomery Feb 2014
As my eyes lay upon the settng Autumn sun,
The West wind still lingers in the air,
Blowing the leaves of the poplar tree through my hair.

I close my eyes as the last light of day shines on my face.
Golden are the rays as they vanish beneath the earth.
Then all that is left behind is Darkness,
That devourers all that it touches.

The blackness cloaks all that is coming;
Coming for me.

But when the ravens fly overhead looking for me,
And the serpents scour the grounds,
I will have been long gone.
For my eyes have never again seen that pure golden light.
Closed to the Earth they are and, that they will stay.

Two roads await me now,
Wether I choose the left or right is unknown.
If you didn't really understand this poem it's because it is a symbolic poem. The symbols used are:
Autumn - Nearing Death
West wind- old age
Poplar tree- linked to the underworld, pain and sacrifice
Ravens- death
Serpents- evil
Left&Right-; to look to ones right is to look at the protector the ****** will go left
Black- cold negative aspects
Cloak- human trickery, assumption
Faith Montgomery Feb 2014
Lying in a pitch black void called my room,
I glance over at the clock;
Its 11:20.
My eyes return to the cold black ceiling.
Closing them softly I see all the mistakes I've  made,
Race through my mind as though they were wild horses.
Silently I name each face I see that I've let down.
As I try to apologize for what I have done,
Their gaze is fixed towards me,
With disgust painted upon their faces.
A warm crystal tear dances down my cheek,
As the images melt away, my mind is at its peak.
About to explode I go into mentation mode.
Thinking of  things I have learned in my life,
Don't apologize if the one whose acceptance you want you know you will not get
The smell of Autumn leaves swept through my window,
As though death was calling my name.
Here I  lay still in  my room,
And still not accepted.
Kind of bad but first poem I've ever written. Hope you like it.

— The End —