by melissa Sep 2, 2008
category :
Dark, fantasy /
dark, horror
Time slips by her, yet clinging upon her with the grip of an icy hand around her throat... Her feet shuffle the leafs on the ground, retracing what was once known to her... Memories lost in translation are stirred; awakened from what was once a solitude of her personal sanity. |
by Gentle Storm
This is a great poem! I was gripped from the start to the end! |
This poetic piece is delivered with such apomb and grace, it is an achieved organic presentation not merely something one "reads"! I'm not sure about the work's title (something even the "best" of writers overlook), however, this material has the seeming natural ability to embrace. engulf its receiver and doen't allow the experiencer true release at the end, only a breather...well worth the encounter and delightful creation! |