And So She Writes

And so she writes.
Of things ungainly and morose;
unregarded and kept hidden for too long.
The spring of life moves on and on,
just like each breath of dawn.

The midnight hour is real again.
The witches and the wizards spin their spells.
Invading even haughty human wills.
A vow of silence, forced upon the young.

Festering, as manly things were done
that might ensure another secrecy of power.
Where all their fear was spent without
the kindness only heart and soul can give.

And she, so far away from them somehow.
Lost within the crowds that slept together -
while remaining ever far apart inside,
where loving mattered most of all.

And so she writes.
Somehow she must.
Dispelling all the feelings
of the lust they that had
been laid on her somehow...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take Me Home...