Home > Creative Writing > Poetry
Created on: May 05, 2010
I Am A Book
Each page together like a fine print upon a book,
Line upon line tells its own story if you would but look.
Such pain it bore, chapters of times past,
But tarry not for the story has come upon us at last.
Buried deeply the ink flowed, not blue, no, but the darkest crimson red,
And traveled mightily onward seeking the ancient kingdom of the dead.
Oh there would be time aplenty and a summer’s eve gather the way,
Would that the elfins, fairies, and witches keep peace at bay?
I am a knight on a sturdy steed trying to escape the passage of time,
Or perhaps a highwayman risking all for the sake of my nightly crime.
Aye and what have we here but a thunderous roar lighting the darkened sky,
And the cannons held their mark, for a watery grave it must forever lie.
So many crystal clear mornings, rainbows first dew,
Light of my life. Memories of you.
Aye shadows darken but play against the moonlight they must,
While the wrath of the winds, savagely swirls the ancient dust.
I am good, I am bad, adventurous, romantic, horror and mystery,
I am starved for affection, a life story, kind, gentle, a trek through out history.
Look at me, see me, let your imagination set your mind free,
I am a book, open the cover, turn the page, and read me.
Learn more about this author, Lady Cynthia.
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