Latest Forum Posts:


HomePoetry Stories Cloven Dark

Cloven Dark

Tags: dark, gothic

To the ends of the cloven dark 
not of earth her bosom locks 
from her uterus well worn 
where the night is born
as the torrent of winter calls  
rising of the tempest beat 
beneath the cold Medina walls 
a place I can sleep

dreaming of flowers and trees 
with an innocent heart 
of my passion and cankering chair 
to the ends of the cloven dark  


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

To link to this poem from your site - please use the following code:

<a href=""> Cloven Dark </a>

Comments (0)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.