The Cry

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  • Fantasy

    The Cry

    As darkness surrounds me,

    and death is near,

    there is one thing that I can hear.



    Sharp as a gun shot,

    smooth as silk.

    Aimed toward the moon,

    white as milk.



    Closer they come,

    my heart fills with fear.

    Down my cheek,

    streams a single tear.



    As they howl,

    I turn around,

    and there's a wolf.

    Standing it's ground.

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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    solorose’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Moon, The Name, and Love 2
    Never Alone 1
    The Cry 1
    My Message Machine 0
    A Secret Admirer 1
    Everyone's a Critique 0
    A Taken Love 2
    The Dove 4