How mournful, the gravel who wished at clouds to embrace the mount bloom
Nothing, yet gray blobs would blown by the weather’s betray
Unless mist in every steep
uncertainty kisses…
Thy sue a slumber, a tyrant present
Aware the early air petrifies thy a mortal cry
It’s tantamount of breath a thousand guillotine
My Lord! So a tortured concord!
Awaken thy a burden wraith
Lest O’ quietus nay differ than the joy of life
Her Schizophrenic Diary 
Nice one.
Keep it up!!
thank you meiro…. thanks for visiting 🙂
such lovely almost antiquated poetry – very reminiscent of the Bard himself – I very much like your way with the language and your imagery … esp things like “So a tortured concord!” Very nice.
thank you very much for your compliment dear seingraham…. thats motivate me a lot! glad you enjoy my poetry, I hope it still understandable… 🙂
Wow, “uncertainty kisses…” nicely put.
hello Jingme. aw, that’s my favorite too! Thank you 🙂
Loved the last line 🙂
hai tweety thank you. Glad you enjoy it. 🙂
I am not an educated poet, I just write 🙂 therefore, this type of poetry is hard from me to understand but l loved the flow and rhythm of it, it’s like a waltz. i really did enjoy that!! smiles, Terri
Dear Terri,
I do still learning about writing poetry too, since I love Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe, so I love use philosophy and old term of English. A kind of my weaknesses too that the reader can’t understand what is my purpose, but I’m glad you enjoy to read…. I will increase my skill. Thank anyway for the comment 🙂
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