Biography of Krantol Northic
I'm a shockingly young 15. I've been writing poetry since I was 9 but the thought of putting up my poetry on the internet never occurred to me until mid-September 2006 when I chanced upon this website.
Most of my poetry is completely imprompto, written at the 'submit poem' page.
I sincerely hope you enjoy reading my poems. Leave a comment or vote if you have the time.
Krantol Northic Poems
Hope is the sweet, sweet scent of flowers in the morning Hope is the cool gentle breeze on a warm summer's day
Random Thoughts And Emotions
this cycle or hurt, this cycle of pain my mind says its different but my heart knows its the same I'm left helpless, cracking from stress pressure from all sides, not given a rest
Its being misunderstood, people making you out as someone you are not. Its feeling lonely, with no one to talk to. Its feeling angered, emotions boiling. Its being lost, not knowing what to do.
Shoebox Of Letters
I found my shoebox of letters and dreams sent by a friend or so it seems
when the night burns into day and the sun begins to shine the promise of your love never lingering behind
Like a wolf that howls at the moonlit skies I beseech you to remove her from my eyes And remove from me the sweet madness of love As the wolf howls at the skies above.
The sky is dark the moments are bleak where can I find the peace I seek
The Life And Times Of A Plant
And it sat there, deadly still Stuck in the darkness, against its will It tried to stretch its arms and feet But this thick darkness, it could not beat
Fear The Water
Pure and clean Cool and calm Grant of life Rule the realm
The heart can be lovesick Happiness when shes around The heart can be hidden True form not to be found
Tis The Land
The land was blooming with beauty with green grass and blue sky Land free from tyranny where, freely, all birds could fly
Deal With Death
The boy stood on the edge of the cliff Glancing down at the sea below The waves crashed down on the many rocks as they did oh so long ago
Denial Of Love
Since when was it right for me To sit here and wish for things to be Even though I've came back to this home
I Am Me
Not the hero that saves the day
Not the child who loves to play
Not the lost one with no place to stay
Not the wronged one with misunderstood ways
Not the lovesick with the aching heart
Not the mother shopping at the mart
Not the cynic with the sharpest tongue
Not the dreamer with ideas far-flung