Grace

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Fantasy

    Grace

    Sounds of fevered grace,
    That echoed in the night.
    Waves of gentle pain,
    That kept reality in sight.
    It used to feel so sweet,
    I could never get enough.
    But now there’s to much heat,
    Now the pain’s to rough.
    Why do you hurt me?
    I just don’t understand.
    Your face wears a smile,
    Your eyes still demand.
    Smokey dreams of passion,
    Where you never seem to be.
    Dreams that fill my mind
    And tell me that I’m free.
    Until my eyes are opened,
    And see where you still lay.
    Makes me wish the night
    Would become my day.

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    Shadow2u commented on Grace

    02-10-2009

    The fusion of dream and reality in this poem is very effective.

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    dherrington’s Poems (25)

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    Title Comments
    blur 4
    What I need 0
    Hidden 0
    Rose 0
    Last Generation 1
    Echoes 0
    Escape 0
    Perfect 0
    Tact 0
    Destiny 0
    Slices of Reality 0
    Inside Me 2
    I See 0
    Sacrifice 1
    Grace 1
    Illusion 5
    Hidden 0
    Yesteryear 0
    Guile 1
    Deception 0
    Salvation 0
    Rage 1
    Voyage 1
    I Am 0
    Sold My Soul 3