Members writing. Own works, using one's own characters. Short stories, poems, novels or parts there of
by von Zoyton » 16 May 2014, 21:11
Swift
The Swifts lace the early –
Summer evening air
With cries of despair like
The melancholy of my heart
I feel the warm atmosphere
On my skin like the comfort
Of my broken spirit
Where I dwell in this self pity
And soon the heady
Days of green and sun
Will go, and my spirit will
Leave quickly like the Swifts
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von Zoyton
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