Rising, rising.
The sun, perhaps, is what it could be.
But more likely not.
A light, gold.
A light, black.
A light, silver.
A light, white.
Opposites attract,
or so they say.
Perhaps they do
and perhaps not.
Would I know?
I think not.
A light, gold.
A light, black.
A light, silver.
A light, white.
The moon in the night.
Not always, I think,
though they tell me otherwise,
those men of the world.
A light, gold.
A light, black.
A light, silver.
A light, white.
Only dreams may be an escape.
Only dreams,
although different things
are what they say.
A light, gold.
A light, black.
A light, silver.
A light, white.
This is the first poem I ever wrote, and it was filed with some notes for The Name of the Game trilogy. I don't remember why...
Well, I guess I should go over the book ideas, and others, I currently have.
The Name of the Game-trilogy, current work
The Digger's Daughter-started, but put on hold... for who knows how long...
The School of Time-magic, and etc.
Reincarnation-sci-fi-ish
UNKNOWN NAME-elves, fairies, etc.
The Card Players-Modern, teen band
Hello, I am Your Therapist-short, play-ish like thing...
Short detective stories-?
And that was extremely unorganized... Oh well.
Cheerio, peeps.
