Posted in poetry

A Rumi Prompt



I have lived on the lip of insanity

Tip toed on the edge of mischief

Listened to the whispers in the woods

A garden willed to me

By the hands of life

For me to grow with it

The world takes her clothes off for me

And I am grateful

I sleep in between days

Night opens itself up to the world

And lets the nightmares, dreams, and fantasies

All run wild

Like fire out of control

Or pleasure that wont end

Since control is merely

An illusion

The duality of man is ever –present

Animal and machine

Peace and violence

I am the gentle breeze before the storm

Standing on the edge of time

© 2015 Christopher Noe

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Author:

Writer, Poet and Music geek

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