Night
In the Night
The birds take flight
The wind beneath their wings
As they sing
I love the night
In all the darkness
The angels hearken
I want to be a part of the night
Where nobody can see me
And I blend in
Invisible
A part of the night
The night knows when to stop
And so must I
For I am the night
The darkness that swallows the sun.
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Wolf | 0 | 11/04/2010 |
| Fear | 0 | 11/04/2010 |
| Can You Spell Love | 0 | 11/04/2010 |
| Night | 0 | 11/04/2010 |
| My Name Doesn't Matter | 0 | 11/04/2010 |
| The voices in my head | 1 | 04/11/2009 |
| A Dream? Or Reality? | 0 | 04/11/2009 |
| As the Bullets Fly | 0 | 04/11/2009 |
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