They come stampeding
On the white page
Seeking silage–
An extra mileage
To subsist

In their quest
They persist, penetratingly,
To reach you

They form a prude
Who insists
On taking you away
Atop the wings of a cliché
Of sonnets
In soothing, but racing moments

Yet, it’s only a front
The truth is blunt–
They need your
Apathy and

They’re immaturely
They demand
With a wag of a hand
To allure You
Until you say
The final word
On which they may

6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Jewaira
    Nov 29, 2005 @ 22:59:00

    AyyA You are very artistic and spiritual in your recent posts. More so than you usually are. I find that fascinating.


  2. AyyA
    Nov 30, 2005 @ 12:27:00

    Lady J
    May be I’ maturing? 😉
    7abeebti wallah


  3. Elegance
    Nov 30, 2005 @ 20:04:00

    You never seize to amaze me! Always full of surprises! That is one amazing piece of art, AYYA 😉


  4. AyyA
    Dec 01, 2005 @ 11:12:00

    Min yesh’had lil3aroosa LOL
    Kilich thoog wallah :*


  5. Peach
    Dec 02, 2005 @ 16:50:00

    This is so beautiful! I’ve always longed to depict with mere words the power & depth of a word. And facing your words I find that u have fulfilled that & even gone beyond! I am, I fear, wordless! 😉


  6. AyyA
    Dec 03, 2005 @ 18:09:00

    Thank you Peachy, where have you been 🙂


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