fate (Remove filter)
Clotho
Sweep me off my feet,
Carry me through this dreamlike state, and
Spin me faster than I’ve ever spun before.
Call me yours,
Call me his, hers, or
Call me mine. I do not care.
Shower me with golden rain,
Bathe me in the sin of mortality, and
Let me retain this tiny bit of humanity I still have.
Do not remind me of my greater purpose
For I do not know what...
Thursday 20th July 2023 10:19 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
1 hour ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
5 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
21 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
22 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago