sorrow (Remove filter)
The Faol's Tale of Forsaken Love
Leader of his own pack,
A high slope, only to his lonesome self,
Lost connection toward the skys tired eyes,
Ears tucked in deepening sulk.
He'd given up on prey's prayful ease,
Wrapped in dolefuls constructed salute,
As if every pelt surrounded him in scorn,
Soon forgotten travail, a yelp inflicted his oiled mood.
Cascading into his perception, he had seen a limb...
Sunday 5th October 2014 5:59 pm
Recent Comments
Steve White on A Life in the Day
2 hours ago
Steve White on Rwanda Bound
2 hours ago
John Coopey on SWINGING
2 hours ago
Greg Freeman on A Life in the Day
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Still Life with Massacre
3 hours ago
Telboy on A Life in the Day
4 hours ago
Tom Doolan on SWINGING
4 hours ago
John Coopey on SWINGING
4 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on SWINGING
6 hours ago
John Coopey on SWINGING
6 hours ago