Lost Out In The Cold Poem by Mark Crane

Lost Out In The Cold



Drifting into the darkness of slumber...

Ah, i hear her now in whispers soft as moonbeams
Carried forth, on the delicate wings of my dreams

Come in from the cold, Come in from the cold,

Face of an angel, alluring, pristine and pure
Beckoning me toward, with eyes of deepest azure

Come in from the cold, Come in from the cold,

Caressing my soul with a voice warm as mid Spring
With arms out stretched, offering of sanctuary and understanding

Come in from the cold, Come in from the cold,

Consciousness with it's abrupt, unwanted intervene
Desperately reaching, as she fades into the black ravine

Destined here to stay, lost out in the cold...

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Mark Crane

Mark Crane

Williams Town Australia
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