Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Fear runs through the poets pen
Until all the ink runs out.
So much in words must be said
Within our times of doubt.

Then again things may change
For the better or  for the worse
In this world of uncertainty
Put some Sunshine in a verse .
If my Valentine you won't be,
I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.
Flying astrally

through the Universe,

filled with astronomical

violence happening nonviolently,



it's inconceivable to not know

serenity is, as beauty serenades

eyes that would it see,

un-beckoning unto Thee.
A Universe' song, cacophony, symphony ever beckoning thee   :)   reality
Next page