Almost Last Sleep

Drooping, weeping
crying, sleeping
dreams tonight will be left keeping
my heart and soul jumping, leaping
deep inside my empty shell

Night and day
drift and sway
confusing it as i lay
down, ignoring what they say
ringing the dreadful bell

Its the kind
that rings for time
finding it will draw a line
following it leads to a sign
showing the gates of hell

Leaving fast
going past
dreamers going to their last
destination. I'm home at last
surviving and telling the tale.

Poetry by Mark Reynolds
Read 465 times
Written on 2005-12-06 at 17:19

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I loved the movement in this poem.
That was very well evident.
I will go read your other works too.