darren thoms Poems

What is you name,
Is it the sacrate word spoken only from a lovers dying lips
The leaves falling in a light autumn breeze
Or the down pours of spring that bring new life
...

To transmute ones love for the one he loves
One must pay a price of high toll
He must shed his body and mind
And let his soul pass through the black door
...

To hold my hart in my hand
For my lover to on her sleeve
Through flames of temptations
Or Shadows of doubts
...