Franz Of Lion

7'11 - Poem by Franz Of Lion

I can hear the unending pulsation.
Somehow it exceeds the din of voices
As I wait for its authorization.
Inside of me, there are unrest noises.
I keep it inside until I'm set free..
Of this congested yet open blank cage
Without someone outside who calls for me.
It impels me to be numb and derange.
When the essential is close, I am cured
It agitates me when I know it's near..
And then she comes.. the things that I endured;
It's worth it, as soon I see you I leer.
I will stand after waiting for a while,
And then it will start with a pleasant smile.

Topic(s) of this poem: patience

Comments about 7'11 by Franz Of Lion

  • Kelly Kurt (9/24/2015 6:59:00 PM)

    A wonderful poem, Erys. Thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 24, 2015

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