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An Akwad Maybe PoemPerhaps even now the answer is so simple,An Akwad Maybe Poem
move on move on move on move on. Man is still the same as it always has been.
Wild, roaming and always moving. moving on.
Like modern day Heracles, On shining two wheeled chariots, Draped in the skins of animals, perhaps a ward against injury, their skins marked with the tales of their battles, They understand what all men understand.
inflation becoming over-hunting, houses becoming caves, or for them hotels. Jobs becoming one task moving on
Don't you envy the Nomad? &nbs
by ~myrrion
Unfinished -- The WolfHe never wanted to hurt her. Maybe he once did, but that was before. Before she put her tiny, white, soft hands on his neck. Before she laughed that little laugh. She was so small, so soft, so white. She was a tiny flower. She looked like the inside of a milkweed pod. He pressed his head into her hands, begged her forgiveness for his dirty feet, his wild eyes, his angry heart.Unfinished -- The Wolf
He used to run through the forest, wild, wild, wild. His mind would stop. He was alone, wild, wild, wild. Once he saw her tiny dark eyes – bird eyes, dark, round and always moving – he knew he would never be alone again. He never ran after that. S
by ~myrrion
1.I know you'll be back. I know it. You said you would, remember, on that cold November day, with the hail? The tree fell and I was scared, but you promised you'd never leave me. You said you would never leave me, so I know you'll come back. We'll be reunited. I'll cry into your shoulder and I'll show you the new, baby sapling I planted to replace that tree that fell. I'll show you my new rose bush, the color I painted the walls of our bedroom. I'll tell you about the books I read, especially the ones I've been reading just to tell you about. I'll hold your hand as I lead you around our house , giving you the tour as if it was all new to you. Y1.
by ~myrrion
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- Current Residence: Tweelingheuvels
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