Poetic License

[Poetic License]

As the sun sets in the West
like a smooth corruption of fantasy
breaking on the shores of a mans boot
as he passes through the corner of life
in a coarse, soft plague, of apple reisin
And the mountains lie wet in coral reef
stricken by an attack of, theoretical damage
pounding upon the door like the wreckage of the Pacific
dripping down a hole in the bathroom floor.

In the poem it rolls, it rolls, it rolls.

And alas, the man is left standing alone
talking with the West wind, about,
nothing imparticular, and the ways of
men and elves, and the movements in the east
of the great armies of nothing parading around
breaking everything with emptiness.
And all the while you can't take
what you like from an all borne grace
sitting high in the trees, waiting, waiting.

In the poem it rolls, it rolls, it rolls, it stops. Dead on the spot.


Well, isn't that a wierd poem. basically it is just a group of words, strung together. But I like it. (oh, and it was me who wrote it, in case you were wondering)

[Darrell]

ahh, umm, yeah, I kinda forgot to log on when I posted this So yeah, umm, now i feel like an idiot...

[Dhodrimme Rualanna]

Ah, so that was you who posted that *laughs slightly* It's alright, no worries.... and an interesting poem, a little confusing, perhaps, but then again, I wasn't much for understanding complicated statements..... like all those small writings on bills, bank statements and whatnot.... *chuckles* Excellent none the less

[Eleniel]

Aww, most interesting Darrell. It makes me want to hear more. It's like there is a whole story behind that is hinted but never more than that, which rouses my curiousity! Also the lines about the poem is an interesting effect, gives an impression of a story teller trying to keep the audience's attention. *smiles*