I am not one of those people who writes about the kid who is bullied, or the woman who kills herself, or how depressed I am. That is not poetry, that is feeling sorry for yourself.
Riddles, Riddles 2Spiky brown coneRiddles, Riddles 2 by Waywardelvenmage
as in off of a tree
Seeding the earth
in a planting spree
Open and close
to the seasons it responds
Ghost of the future
a natural despot
Riddles, RiddlesReflective, yet clearRiddles, Riddles by Waywardelvenmage
Holds yer best beer(sorry for the bad rhymes)
Made from coarse sand yet smooth as babies hands.
Bleeding BlueA rift in they sky,Bleeding Blue by Waywardelvenmage
pouring its life.
Up with the clouds,
misting their strife.
Like a sickness,
the sky takes a dreary hue.
Spilling sadness, raining hatred,
spraying madness, bleeding blue.
Sourceless RiverAlighted from where?Sourceless River by Waywardelvenmage
All I can do is stare,
at the sourceless river above.
Its shining water plays tricks on the eyes,
flitting about like a seraphic dove.
Like a shapeless dreamscape,
it goes neither left or right,
Bleeding,pouring blue, the water has taken flight.
Upon ending its watery descent,
it splashes upon the ground,
and creates a spectrum of light.
"Oh where, Sourceless river, from where did you come?"
I called to the sky.
"I come from the world, way up high."
"Can you not tell me, where is your source?"
"My source is irrelevant, but what of my course?"
With that the Sourceless River stopped its rapid flowing,
and the last trickles of the sky fountain,
and the splashes stopped their crackly crowing,
and the Sourceless River was not sourceless anymore,
for the mist lifted and it came from a mountain.