ZA Furries

Your poetry has a lot of emotion to it... you do an amazing job with that.

Aristry

I dream of verdant fields,
of heavy scented orchards
sprung forth onto the artists fertile canvas.
A world of details.
His microcosm.

I gaze at endless expanses,
horizons without grasp
visage of beauty.
Wonder and wrath.

I envy abstract fowls
and starry skies crafted with care
beheld as beauty.

I dream of creations that are sculpted
with chisel and friction
practiced hands that caress
molded flesh to
exquisite beauty.

That's really beautiful, Halcy.

Playwright

Actor Actor,
read the script.
Ready your make-up,the stage is set.
"Oh Horatio. I knew him well."
The play begins.

Left on read.
Last seen 10:56.
That's what the screen-cap said.

He walked away.
In the middle of the night.
Went out wondering,
and put a bullet in his head.

His family cried.
They all asked why.
And the devil told them,
"you never saw him cry."

Giving up on hope.
Surrendering dreams.
Fading light.
Losing breathe.
The outro begins.

These are still really good.
Is everything okay? You are always more than welcome to send me a message if you need someone to chat with.

for everything we are,
a sea lies between us.

For what we claim to be,
very closed off is what we are.

Passing by, sharing mutual comfort
but little is known or shown.

For our closeness we are closed off.
Never seeking, nor inviting, another in.
Partitioning circles, assigning places.
Divided.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
Goes the clock.
Waiting on others.
Giving up the time,
staying behind.

Days crawl past,
hours dwindle.
Precious moments
given away.
To make someone else's day.