A.E. Rivenbark Poet Sonnet

Collide

Part salty clouds of bated breath restores
Carve wooden drifting words of passing Kings
Swaying gently the tides, internal wars
Buoyed by ideals, anchored in quicksand rings

Sink deeper in desperate clutching arms
Winds whipping hard against binds that we tie
Navigate tidal waves, safeguard from harms
Storms weathered from truths we try to deny

Gravel fills thy boots, dragging trails in sand
Drowning inside throngs with thy sword and blood
Healing wounds caused by a deserter's hand
Spilling across the fields, a mighty flood

Gasping breath, treasonous spy, thee explore
Like rushing waves thee breach mine rocky shore

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Larry Berdoo March 22, 2014 at 9:34 AM Internal warfare, stuggles exsistance in true reality; with so much more. Its almost overwelming, only you know. I like this poem, it gave me a peak in someones soul for a breif moment. Thank you, for sharring.