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The hunt begins where silence
ends, in the active evening
light, where once there was
dreams to hold, and lovers

The captive mind as wounds
to harsh to heal, in the snear
of centeries, where only tears
fall in vain without a spoken

Echos float among clouds
of white, lingering it's cries
among the best, where only
children of today can rule
out each, one by one, without
the mark of the beast.

The hunt begins with prayers
in vain, with tears falling
in each whisper of the night,
when shadows are darken
deeper without question..

Dreams are still for dreamers,
cutting out the mystic spells
that control a lovers heart,
while only a thought can
make the hunt end without

My poem from 'Hearts Expression' Collection

By Derena

© 2018 Derena (All rights reserved)



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