The Words They WoveA Poem by CynicalPoetry with my own flow and odd patterns, I'm not very good with sticking to a rubric..!
Within the boundaries of fleeted quietness,
There came an echo to bestow, Hushed by whispers which writhed forth, propelling thoughts below, And down with precision, both daunting and deranged, It had perished the soul, to with which the brink of innocence had been maimed; Abjured in a constant, and for once she had been drained, Of all the colossal malice, both forgoing and framed, She sat beneath the conifer, refused to brush its ends; For the precision beneath sharp edges had refined the yearning of hope, Yet she'd knew its irrepressible nature had incogitable threats, Filed by the presence of the blasphemous behemoth that never forgets, To impel you in his chamber, toppled with losses and tremendous regrets. So she raised quaintly from beneath the sharpened tree, And lay out her hand in silence, prayers to be set free, As the sudden emergence of a figure polished her hand with welcome nominee; In holy softness, words sought to flee, From the mouth of our beloved God to answer her everlasting plea, Before her eyes tore open to the haze of somber night, Followed by a warmth that managed to suspend - The feeling of negligence that they'd sworn to amend; And her eyes traced silently to the light that induced a recherche gleam, As a smile crested the seams of her once wilted outlook, For this was not but a simple dream, This was God's beacon, and it continued to beam. © 2017 CynicalAuthor's Note
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Added on January 31, 2017 Last Updated on January 31, 2017 Tags: Life, Religion, Depression, Hopeless AuthorCynicalPflugerville, TXAboutI've always shared interest in obsolete words followed by deranged and uncommon assortments of words to use in my writing. more..Writing
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