Trapped in 2018
Sometimes we are all a prisoner to the muse. She has us trapped, or it our own doing. Sometimes I wonder. Thanks for sharing.
The following poems are randomly selected from part B of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
TempestThe quietude, was far too quiet,
OversightI walk a very tender and fragile edge,
PredictionKindaal had guessed Natas was going to be mad,
Shadow CreatureWhy, does Natas always send me out here?
Bull HornThe Niknogard charged at double time,
SoIt has happened once again, as it has done every millennium or so. The Great One, has means in his ways. These wars, of total annihilation, act as a cleansing process.