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Poor Lost Soul

Contributed by ingeniusidiot on Thursday, 22nd May 2008 @ 04:39:28 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



Upon a clearing, weary feet have trod where moonlight brightly shines
As blood-shot eyes caress the troubled soul
Broadening horizons beneath the veil of shadowing oaks and pines
There is another bridge to burn but in order to pass there is a toll

Glowing eyes of scarlet hue watch from shadow’s cloak
Where darkness consumes the thoughtless minds of the forgotten dead
And the sound of the rushing river below, into the crevices of every fear does soak
And fills the air with whispers of ill fated lies and words that were never said

Rolling clouds like an army vast overcome and besiege the moon
As the legions of Hell come forth from hiding
Within the darkness of the night with fallen angels the damned soul does commune
As of now not even the stars in the Heavens can help in guiding…

…this poor lost soul


2008




Copyright © ingeniusidiot ... [ 2008-05-22 04:39:28]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Poor Lost Soul (User Rating: 1 )
by Muinanyere on Thursday, 22nd May 2008 @ 07:51:03 AM AEST
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This is amazing, it flows so well. I love the words you use, good write.


Re: Poor Lost Soul (User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on Thursday, 22nd May 2008 @ 08:30:35 AM AEST
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Awesome write...I loved the imagery portrayed in this.....
Jenni


Re: Poor Lost Soul (User Rating: 1 )
by ZiggyB on Thursday, 22nd May 2008 @ 09:08:12 PM AEST
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Fantastic write. I enjoyed reading this.

Keep them coming.


Re: Poor Lost Soul (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 24th May 2008 @ 07:06:55 AM AEST
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Beautiful. I am glad that you decided to stop where you did because this poem is brillant.
I liked this one a lot and you always write so well. I am glad that I could help you out a little bit with what I somewhat contributed. Well done

Take care
christina


Re: Poor Lost Soul (User Rating: 1 )
by deadwriter on Tuesday, 10th June 2008 @ 11:45:25 PM AEST
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Rich,

Magnificent! Many a day I myself feel like the poor lost soul. Excellent job.

Deadwriter




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