Always Deciding
I am there.
Masked in Night's shade,
his darkness choking all light.
A soft breeze.
Night is yawning.
The sky is dawning.
Its dress of deep, purple haze.
Tis a night,
indeed.
A finally fulfilled need.
As I gaze,
I phase,
Where there,
taken through a maze.
Where there,
walls are black and body.
Twists and turns
undending.
Its paths
another decision.
A division of answers.
They're locked in His box,
You know.
In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.
Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Happy Dagger | 0 | 10/19/2013 |
| Mother. | 0 | 03/06/2013 |
| Trudge | 0 | 03/01/2013 |
| Discovery | 1 | 02/20/2013 |
| Timid | 0 | 02/20/2013 |
| Dice | 0 | 02/20/2013 |
| Voices | 2 | 02/20/2013 |
| Grim | 1 | 02/20/2013 |
| Violet | 0 | 02/20/2013 |
| BEFORE I CONTINUE! | 0 | 02/20/2013 |
| Always Deciding | 0 | 02/20/2013 |
| Forgive | 1 | 11/27/2010 |
| Missing Pieces | 4 | 09/15/2010 |
| The Raven | 1 | 04/21/2010 |
| Lost Wings | 1 | 04/18/2010 |
| You are | 3 | 04/05/2010 |
| Mist | 7 | 02/18/2010 |
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.