Getting sick
I have never gotten sick,
I have never got a cold,
I have never cut my finger,
I have never broken a bone,
I can't remember being sick,
Or lying in a hospital bed,
I can't remember ever bleeding,
Or bumping my own head,
I can remember car crashes,
I can remember when my house burned,
But I cannot remember being injured,
It makes me quite concerned,
When I look back over my past,
I think my life is just some trick,
No one invincible but....
When do you last remember me being sick?
Tattered lives,
Within broken dreams,
Nothing here,
Is what it seems,
Steel rooms,
With cold walls,
Leading into,
Empty halls,
At a window,
Are odd little eyes,
Showing and glowing,
The world's demise,
In a room without a door,
Lies the catcher of the dreams,
But like the room without a door,
He isn't quite what he seems.
Wind in my face
Rushing upward
I don't want to give up
I'm falling
All it took was one step
To make my heart flutter
And my life flash
I'm falling
Ravens I hear you wings
Rain you pound on me
Clouds I feel your thunder
I'm falling
The decent seems slow
My breath is a ghost
I am tired
I'm falling
The world is in pain
Blood paints its surface
But I don't care because….
I'm falling….
A nameless prophet without a purpose
A herold of this day and age
With a telling yet unheard-of
The truth too knowing for parchement page
A sightless being with a fortune
A message in the crystal ball
With fate set out in tarrot cards
The palm reading of deadly call
A wanderer of type unknown
A believer of the fates in store
With a will and heart to aid her
The heart knows more now than before
A wise man would heed this telling
A child would listen and then forget
With this warning comes the price
The sightless one knows and yet
A nameless prophet walks our world
A purpose yet to earn
With a telling yet unheard of
The lesson still to learn
Flow on flow
Flight on flight
Something is afoot this night
Gently gently
Quietly soar
In the silence forevermore
Fleetly fleetly
Fluttering fowl
Softly while the moon doth prowl
Cawing cawing
Carrion king
Death’s own heart gone a-wing
Sharply sharply
Claw and snap
Screeching, seething feathery flap
Flow on flow
Flight on flight
Doth the raven wing this night
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Peregrine Poetry