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Vincent Dent Poem
He sat in his room. It was a moderate winter's eve. In the past, he might have written such things as "And he spilled the contents of his tortured psyche onto the page", but now he had become more refined concerning his depressive episodes; a much more cynical writer on this date, this moderate winter's eve. He would rather write "He sat in his room. It was a moderate winter's eve. In the past, he might have written such things as "And he spilled the contents of his tortured psyche onto the page", but now he had become more refined concerning his depressive episodes; a much more cynical writer on this date, this moderate winter's eve. He would rather write "He sat in his room. It was a moderate winter's eve. In the past, he might have written such things as "And he spilled the contents of his tortured psyche onto the page", but now he had become more refined concerning his depressive episodes; a much more cynical writer on this date, this moderate winter's eve. He would rather write something else.
So, he got out of his chair and decorated the ground outside and below with a generous splash of red. It was decidedly his last creation; a message that ended up being somewhat abstract. Hardly worth the ink, that 'something else'. ", but as he was viciously writing, he was stricken by a terrifying interruption - screaming: approaching from above. His apartment was for a moment shadowed by the source, and then a thump.
Realising what had happened, he raced out of his apartment and downstairs to see if the source had survived.", which he felt to be a much better expression of his perpetual state. Quite satisfied with the apparent improvement in the maturity of his writing, he duly laid down his pen and proceeded to his bed.
Copyright © Vincent Dent | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Vincent Dent Poem
an atheist's prayer
I close my eyes
how could I dare?
I know that He sighs
an atheist's prayer
in the dark of the night
when nobody cares
and all are lies
Heavenly Father
I know that I've sinned
But tonight
My life will begin
Please
Show us a sign
Guide the way
With your Angels divine
I don't ask
For them to know my name
I don't play
The hedonist's game
Please
Help us understand
Bring some truth
To this barren land
an atheist's prayer
I close my eyes
how could I dare?
I know that He sighs
an atheist's prayer
in the dark of the night
opened my heart
and saw the Light
Copyright © Vincent Dent | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Vincent Dent Poem
The song in my heart is heavy and driven
It cries that justice and homage be given
It yearns for peace but a peace ideal
Until that day it's fire in a seal
My path it is evident: finely dug for me
A step out of line; in the thorns I'll be
But whereto it leads is the Resolution
To this unfinished cadence
of my spirit's constitution
Copyright © Vincent Dent | Year Posted 2015
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