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posted 9/4/2010 1:36:33 PM |
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tagged: poem

Prisoner of love, passions cage

midnight storms in total rage

a broken mirror on the wall

a fading voice from down the hall

fire or water? Heaven or hell?

There seems to be no way to tell.

Passion lures and then entraps

left or right? Front or back?

Shattered glass carpets the floor

upon the ceiling lies the door.

In the center of it all over the window and through the wall

lies a field of wildflowers in all the colors I have never seen

rows of fragrant rose bushes where a dragon roams free.

Passion holds me tight in his embrace

and I stare him straight in the face...

Yet I wonder friend or foe?

No one is to ever know.

Stacy Rae

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