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Oh, Something Strange Is Boiling In My Soul

Oh, something strange is boiling in my soul And sweetest dreams are not enough for evening, The Idol draws me block she makes me fall, She draws the sighs in bed in our being. The end of summer made me older, yeah, But I don’t know where will I go tomorrow? So many thoughts, I wanted you. My stare lifts all this world on shoulders of my sorrow. For what this prize I do not know today, Let for the ages I do not judge my motions, So, crucify my body I won’t pray, My way is hard through thorn and my emotions. And sweetest dreams are whispering so quiet, That Paradise is waiting me in future, But angels will deform my soul in fight with evil having their endless duty.

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David Smith

Date: 10/12/2016 10:11:00 PM

You cannot escape the poet in you. To write is both pain and pleasure. Your pen will not easily release it's grip so surrender to it's whims and and enjoy the journey and savour the delights it gives you along the way. It may be time try a few different writing styles just to make your horizon seem bigger and see the distant twinkling stars that are easy to miss. Take care David in NZ

Serge Lyrewing
Date: 10/13/2016 4:04:00 AM

Unfortunately, almost these poems are written a long time ago. I'm posting them according my feelings in the moment. Just reflections nothing more. Only few of them are new. I do not feel anything, alas. No feeling no writing. But any way thank you for support .)