Storm of daybreak

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    • Infect
    • Finding my wings. Be they of feather or leather, I shall wear them with pride, for they are my own..

    Storm of daybreak

    Storm cells batter though the heavens,
    lightening flashes, painting the pitch black.
    Winds surge, carrying the thunder,
    fingers clenched, raising my head to scream back.

    The pelting begins, hammering me to my knees,
    this to match the slaming of my tears to the earth.
    Hair so heavy it clings to my flesh,
    inside something dies, to give birth.

    Animals flee an unseen force,
    predator and prey mingle as one.
    Beaten soil gives to shelter,
    as we all await the rising sun.

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    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

    Infect’s Poems (28)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Digging it 0
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    Rebel 3
    Pale stars 3
    Two Hearts 1
    Made of 1
    Blood on the moon 2
    Rivals 4
    The dark of your abscence 0
    Your mountain 4
    That feeling 1
    Storm of daybreak 0
    A dream of mercy 0
    Contagious ramble 1
    Land of the heart 3
    Recieving the given 1
    In between 3
    Rant of the long hair 2
    Senses 2
    Loss of sight 0
    logic in light 0
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    Molly Cantranks 4
    Small Windows 5
    Into life 2
    Seperate ways 4
    A scene from the street 6