Noitavlas Ym
A moment in which it would come at last,
a memory of a friend i seen from the past,
my hopes are but yielder,
be strong, but bewilder,
for my doubts be my armor and hand be my shielder,
I may know it insane,
be the maker of the game,
put the genius to shame,
shape the future in my name,
for seek it again, who let it come in,
for all things so beautiful,
will cometh again,
for let him be fate,
the world is the gate,
when the clock stand at eight,
when the devil reigns his hate,
the hour as we,
tis open the gate,
let him come in, for he is our fate.
Copyright © Thelast Don | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment