Poetry Blogs (walk away)

THE FAWNS

In the place where you were born, there was a field.

And in that field, you watched each May,

With your mother,

As the fawns were born.

In seven minutes, they can stand.

In ten hours, they can walk.

In the place where you were born, there was a road,

And on that road, you will drive one day,

Without your mother.

Away, away.

It will take you eigh...

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The monster digs it's claws in tight
I can't escape it, with all my might
I want to run away or hide
But today, with you, I stand to fight
The dark won't win, only light

I can feel the thread, moving my limbs
Like a puppeteer is pulling the strings
I see myself saying and doing these things
As the pied pipers' flute continues to sing

The voices that speak so clearly to me
Try to chan...

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