Le milleur de la passe à dire:

“Il est trop tôt”, puis “Il est trop tard.”

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

And I answer why..


I close my eyes,
I float in the wind
I feel raindrops on me.
Drizzle, storm,
Crash and drizzle
I watch lightning sizzle.
And thunder sings to me;
His story, his dark phases.
I ink his resonance,
On silent pages.
For a moment, forever
I flow.
I fall in love,
I let it go.

3 comments:

Anwesh said...

Nice.. sort of short lines amalgamated together.. but there's a weird flow in them.. could work on the choice of words though.. some just don't fit in..

But, nonetheless, nice writing..

Keep it up!

Rhiamon said...

Thanks! :D

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