WARNING: POETRY. FEEL FREE TO STOP READING.
Outside is like cold fire
in the air, windswept--
more than a storm,
like desire.
It screams and screeches,
a creature of darkness--
a bird of cold
and rain and wind.
Inside a slow burn,
a fire abating.
The ice is
a slow distres,
No icy, grasping
finger tips;
a steady coldness
from the Outside creeping in.
I am surrender,
I have lost my will to fight.
Sorry for the...you know...poetry. Haha. I know I'm not the next Shakespeare or anything, but I originally wrote this in what I guess would be prose and thought it might sound nice in poem-form. I meant it about some random girl who gets caught out in the wilderness during a storm and relates how she got there to a follow...person. It's really cold and stuff. So haha. I kind of like it, but I know I'm no poet.
Jeez, that's pretty dark...
ReplyDeleteAnd the want to build the mosque two blocks from ground zero. They're building a new WTC on the real attack site.