Lost Poem by Alexa Greenwood
Lost
Rating: ★4.0
My life is riderless,
Of prophesy it is bare.
Green meadows turn to bog,
The gallop succumbs to the mire.
Step back - Quick!
I hear her thoughts,
Just and honourable,
Devouring themselves.
A wolf howls at the moon,
Who stole the wilderness?
The mocking gods look down,
And the wind bites, like kindness.
Friday, March 4, 2005
Topic(s) of this poem: kindness
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8/28/2026 4:50:57 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
love poems that when i'm through reading, i want to read them again. there are so many styles to writing, but i love poetry that weave their words to convey a thought and they compell you to see what meanings in them you can discover...thanks, renee