Poems from Nettlespike
Black like the night,
With its silvery tip so fine.
Mind still closed,
Waiting to be used.
White like the angels,
Dancing through the sky...
The World,
Like a dark haze.
The Light,
Slowly fading away.
Deeper and deeper,
And slowly I sink.
Spiraling into the deep,
Right on Death...
Is it true we kill the Raven to free the dove?
Is it true we destroy ourselves by wanting peace?
Then I’d rather have no peace at all,
If...
Is freedom a choice that we make?
Freedom means joy, happiness, unlimited, and paradise.
No one is forced to work,
No one is punished...
Shadows and chains haunt our dreams,
Turning it into a waking nightmare.
Why must it be this way?
Why can’t we go free?
We worked, we...