The Cry

2 Comments

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  • Dark Poetry

    The Cry
    The cry from deep, deep dark
    Stirring and stunning
    And haunting as well
    Moaning from an unknown pain...

    Sizzling thru the embers
    of unknown burning timber
    Bared of warmth
    Cold arms envelope

    None to worldly I guess
    Nothing in here I can smell
    Neither the sin of hell
    Nor who was taken dead

    Can someone so benign
    Still owe nothing to pain
    Only later do come
    Men crying in vain

    Cursed for life the planet must be
    Who’s turn it's next
    That's the worst maybe
    Who will live and who survive

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    stefy commented on The Cry

    08-04-2010

    An amazing poem! ''Who will live and who survive''???? -very deep.........
    Reply to Comment

    SubaD commented on The Cry

    03-15-2009

    Good subject! I can sense the feelings of loneliness. Picture is opt.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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