Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
and in the end there was nothing, just a faded picture, a blurry line or perhaps a wandering snowflake, something I cannot longer recall, I just listen at the echoes of guns and boots in the outside I curl like Christ in fear, while the skies yell at the earth, nothing but a dream, nothing still.
0
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
I said then
and in the end there was nothing, just a faded picture, a blurry line or perhaps a wandering snowflake, something I cannot longer recall, I just listen at the echoes of guns and boots in the outside I curl like Christ in fear, while the skies yell at the earth, nothing but a dream, nothing still.
katzenberg
Written by
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem