Thursday, April 26, 2007

Poetry Corner

by Angela C

Red moon rises,
bleeding low
in firelight
and candle glow.

'Neath its glare
I glimpse ahead,
the smoldering glow
of a flower bed.

overtakes me.
again forsakes me.

Setting foot
inside the gate,
heartbeat quickens,
breath abates.

By rose's grasp
my heart is torn,
spun within
its rusty thorns.

Leave this place,
release my hand,
trapped as a bottle
on the sand.

Cruel moonlight
fades to black.

I'm sorry,

I'll not be
coming back.

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