The crescentic phase of being.A Poem by andrew mitchell
As the jackal of reason
preyed on thoughts of the innocence, now shredded, seeds of hope are now withered on the redemption of time. Still, the silent moon looks on in the cold contemplating, a thousand years from now, pondering.... why the man in his moon?
© 2017 andrew mitchellReviews
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1 Review Added on February 19, 2017 Last Updated on February 19, 2017 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

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