I don't know. Just something that came to me in a dream. The Prophet Man wanders distant lands of the mind, while breathing the future into his feeble lungs.
I predict the life of the Prophet Man,
With a face of a saint and the eyes of the blind
He stands atop a towering dune made of sand
Now he moves to the swell of the ocean
Though, there's no ocean to be seen
Only the Mountains of the Sightless Stranglers
and the Forest of Trembling Dreams
I wonder what is to become of the Prophet Man
As he staggers forward onto the cold rocks
Of the towering mountains which lie ahead
Where hesitant ocean waves never once sighed
From the Mountains of the Sightless Stranglers
To the Forest of Trembling Dreams
The Prophet Man caresses the future with a single hand
While the other connects fingertips to eyelids
Poetry by Kerra Dolarhyde
Read 1059 times
Written on 2006-06-11 at 09:59
Tags Dreams Future Fantasy
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From the Mountains of the Sightless Stanglers
Amidst the silence of a distance shoreI predict the life of the Prophet Man,
With a face of a saint and the eyes of the blind
He stands atop a towering dune made of sand
Now he moves to the swell of the ocean
Though, there's no ocean to be seen
Only the Mountains of the Sightless Stranglers
and the Forest of Trembling Dreams
I wonder what is to become of the Prophet Man
As he staggers forward onto the cold rocks
Of the towering mountains which lie ahead
Where hesitant ocean waves never once sighed
From the Mountains of the Sightless Stranglers
To the Forest of Trembling Dreams
The Prophet Man caresses the future with a single hand
While the other connects fingertips to eyelids
Poetry by Kerra Dolarhyde
Read 1059 times
Written on 2006-06-11 at 09:59
Tags Dreams Future Fantasy
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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