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Gentle chanting underneath hushed breaths
Spells scribble on old parchment
Wands waving through the air
Cauldrons, brooms...Santa Claus
Magic we've been taught since birth
Swords drawn to defend a home, or whatever they saw fit
Weapons designed to stain green fields red
Guns to shoot an enemy in cold blood
Battles fought on the streets, in forests, in one's own heart
Honor we've been shown in tales
A switch, change, things slide
They click into new places, new ideas
Fear of loosing the old, and the unknowns
Differing reality from fantasy
Hope can be found from a new perspective
Self-worth found in small victories
But it's those victories that win the war
Truth, lies, and dreams intermingling
Forming gray spaces where every heart lives
Where every soul finds solace
Hope and faith that tomorrow will bring good
Words rhyming, turning, weaving tales
Transporting to worlds a new
Forests with chime like noise in the air
How life brings magic to every lost being
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So, this is a poem that I'm writing for a contest....or might be using for a contest...it's just a rough draft. It needs a little work, or at least I think it needs a little work. So just let me know what you think.
Thank you in advance ^_^
 Evelie Harte · Mon Sep 29, 2008 @ 11:12pm · 0 Comments |
