poeticnook

and this is the first poem i made for school

outside the wind seems to whisper
a prayer to the skies
that one day i'll come back
before the candle dies
i feel the unseen power
that drives me to my knees
whenever i remember
that my time is near
now curtains are being drawn,
and all the bird have flown
left alone is my bare soul
awaiting to depart

1996.03.01