Your Poetry Dot Com

Array ( [sid] => 138959 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => untitled [time] => 2007-12-04 03:57:25 [hometext] => [bodytext] => She lay alone and burnt my eye at night,
Her moon like throat demanded and held sway,
I found her door upon a street by day,
To stay and watch up´till the even light.
She came from the blue black her skin so white,
A wrist too frail with key was on display,
and as I felt Him smile down on this stray,
I knew I must do what i knew was right.
She sits aloft and fails to hear the stair,
His frank is all but lost in grace and stealth,
Befoe the blessed is only her mirrored hair,
In the dark has come to her sweet love death.
The scarf reduced by hands apart in prayer,
He lifts his head and takes his final breath. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 228 [topic] => 13 [informant] => zicky [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 1 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - untitled

untitled
Date: Tuesday, 4th December 2007 @ 03:57:25 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: zicky

She lay alone and burnt my eye at night,
Her moon like throat demanded and held sway,
I found her door upon a street by day,
To stay and watch up´till the even light.
She came from the blue black her skin so white,
A wrist too frail with key was on display,
and as I felt Him smile down on this stray,
I knew I must do what i knew was right.
She sits aloft and fails to hear the stair,
His frank is all but lost in grace and stealth,
Befoe the blessed is only her mirrored hair,
In the dark has come to her sweet love death.
The scarf reduced by hands apart in prayer,
He lifts his head and takes his final breath.

This poem is Copyright Â© zicky

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