Far from the madding crowdA Poem by SleeplessVolcanoTake a chair The fire’s still hot Come listen to the sounds of the night No, there are no crickets or doves But I heard an owl And I think, a hyena But don’t worry, the fire will keep them away The burning embers are talking Their heat tells a story Whispered through leafy trees I opened a bottle of red From a place we once knew Can you taste the memories? I’ll make your empty glass sing And while the midnight lark Sings a song to its mate Tell me that you love me While you fall asleep In the heat of my wood-fired arms. © 2018 SleeplessVolcanoAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on July 8, 2018 Last Updated on July 8, 2018 AuthorSleeplessVolcanoAbout"In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to". Robert Brault Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Pablo Pica.. more..Writing
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