The night is deep, silent
A nocturnes cry is heard
A gentle breeze sways the flowers
The moon is full
Clouds enshroud the eerie moon
The soft rays become distant
Now in the pale rays of first light
The nocturne closes her eyes and waits…
I know, I know... it only has nine lines... it's a very old and very early piece I made... before I was incapable of making a happy/abstract poem... it was originally one large stanza, but I've found that this sort of writing is bothersome... to many people.. soon I'll be able to get up some of new works, they just have to go through 'revision boot camp,' and such.
the love you withhold is the pain you carry.