Rachel-erika Henderson, 9 grudnia 2011
I built this wet blind cave
In which to dwell
Some call it artistic
I
call it burning hell
It taints my skin
My minds a race
My thoughts
don't still
Stuck in this place
I wait silently
In the scratching
grass
For my peace to come
For this nightmare to pass
I have felt
the claws
Pain I can't let others see
Will this ever pass
Or last an
eternity
The most beautiful creation
Bought me to this doom
The
spell of love
Like a witches broom
My heart fell darkly deep
Into
loves black ocean
kissed by aphrodiate
Like an evil potion
I wait
for my pain to subside
Wait in my wet blind cave
Next time Love visits
me
I shall not become It's slave
Rachel-erika Henderson, 9 grudnia 2011
Who's job is it to sound the bell?
who's job is it to watch time?
to let
the children run and play
to give them all a sign
to catch their
hearts
to hear their laughs
to uncover all their fears
mother is god in
a childs eyes
she takes away their tears
she asks for none yet gives her
love
unconditionally like all things
her youth is pulled to the
side
like her fair tangled hair
like the sound as the bell rings
Rachel-erika Henderson, 9 grudnia 2011
We live on our
blissful island
Sing together, a song
to the sea.
From generation to generation
The chorus rises, proud and
free
Some gone, But some have
come
Enough have stayed to
keep our Isle
In names that sing the same old song,
Our faces greet with
a warming smile.
Our island famed for
beauty
Nestling near the rocky shore,
fiery
dreams and far desires
Calls for praises,
evermore.
It is our sacred
island
Heathered meadows, shady bogs,
scenery is that from a dream
Mornings shaded with
misty fogs,
We live in a beautiful
world
Mother nature gives
rebirth,
Fair maiden, Isle
of Skye
She's the beauty of
mother earth
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