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Post by pixma »


Wind Slices its icy blade.
Like an experienced robber
Grabbing the green stuff
Then cunningly covering his tracks
With a deep multitude

Of colourful distraction
And the wind,
The wind is his accomplice
Putting on an air of chaos
Into the careful diversions
So the branches shake
And dead leave are suddenly blown
In the faces of inquisitive strangers.
The theft chills the world
Changes the temper of the earth
Till the normally placid sky
Glows red with a quiet rage

-Alan Bold
Last edited by pixma on Mon Jun 05, 2006 12:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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who me
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Post by who me »

yeah right, like I'm going to do your home work for you. with out getting paid that is.

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Post by Bmat »

Welcome to Speculative Vision, Pixma! Would you like your poem moved to the poetry forum?

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Bread Butterbeard
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Post by Bread Butterbeard »

nicely done :D
"The world you know is over Grandmaster Shard, will you stand and fight for your people, or let them slip into darkness?" Tartikoff Greenwood to Brayan James Shard

Fifthwind, Terry Brooks, Legends

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Post by SchoolTheOld »

I love the way it flows :)

Stick around Pixma!

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