Posted: April 19, 2013 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

wolf and raven vii

i burn the flames

turning my face into the

ashes of your words –

no one will remember us when

we’re gone, but no one will

forget us when we’re here;

the wind howls as a wolf,

and claws with the talons of a raven –

bleed into me some reason;

let’s forget the world,

in all its injustices and just kiss me

tenderly beneath the moon.

– linda m. crate

awakening joy

nothing changes here except the day

there is no joy, there is no pain –

only the eroding waves of melancholy

washing in; there is no excitement or

anticipation to be found only a tragic

lullaby that holds this town hostage in

streams of despair and boredom, and

they need a hero to come swinging

a sword of compassion and joy and

hope so that people may remember the

topography of a smile once more and a

song of thanksgiving and remembrance will be

brought forth to slice through any misery.

– linda m. crate

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