Gentle chanting underneath hushed breaths Spells scribble on old parchment Wands waving through the air Cauldrons, brooms...Santa Claus Magic we've been taught since birth
Swords drawn to defend a home, or whatever they saw fit Weapons designed to stain green fields red Guns to shoot an enemy in cold blood Battles fought on the streets, in forests, in one's own heart Honor we've been shown in tales
A switch, change, things slide They click into new places, new ideas Fear of loosing the old, and the unknowns Differing reality from fantasy Hope can be found from a new perspective
Self-worth found in small victories But it's those victories that win the war Truth, lies, and dreams intermingling Forming gray spaces where every heart lives Where every soul finds solace
Hope and faith that tomorrow will bring good Words rhyming, turning, weaving tales Transporting to worlds a new Forests with chime like noise in the air How life brings magic to every lost being
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So, this is a poem that I'm writing for a contest....or might be using for a contest...it's just a rough draft. It needs a little work, or at least I think it needs a little work. So just let me know what you think.
Thank you in advance ^_^
Evelie Harte · Mon Sep 29, 2008 @ 11:12pm · 0 Comments |