The MoveA Poem by Nothing Personal
There are far better worlds out there
Hazy, unclear , certainly not vivid in a journey of tangible emotions where God indeed can sit down for a game of chess the result determining who will hold the key to the world of unlimited possibilities and endless travel in time so infinite and uncountable that the clock hardly ticks. I would like to think that my every move on the white and black checkered board controls the torque in the tug of war between six people- death, the priest, the eternal mistress, the aging child, the faceless warrior and the pied piper of course. I would play, I would watch their dance go in a trance like state dream and wake up wake up and dream in a night that is always a night yet there is evening lights outside rampant wind and triumphant music. As my white queen approaches the demolition of God's black king I notice all the squares in the board reversing sides and either I will lose when I should I have won or the game will go on forever. Dreams are a gentle reminder how absurd reality is. © Nothing Personal. March 29 2012. © 2012 Nothing PersonalFeatured Review
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Added on March 30, 2012Last Updated on March 30, 2012 AuthorNothing PersonalTXAboutHi !! I don't fuss too much about sharing a name or an identity. I came across this website and found it to be an interesting niche for writers without distinctive labels. It is a great place to befri.. more..Writing
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