Night's Guardian

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  • Happiness

    Night's Guardian

     The Moon was clad in its best armor, thick bushy clouds, and the sultry wind whispered; and the armor blew away. At that moment the deepest orange pierced my beseeching eyes. The moon answered with a more sumptusous color. Eyes twinkling heart ablaze; I skirted the big boulder and followed the path homeward! I looked ahead and saw I was being lead by the glow of the Night's Guardian!

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    twilightidiot’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Summer's Hollow 0 07/19/2009
    Night's Guardian 0 07/19/2009
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