10 September 2012
Here's another riddle in poetic form, I made this one myself :-) Ready, here it is:
Attractive forces imploring me, With every fibre of my being.
And across this curved space, I am pulled without haste.
Relentless is the attraction, And yet, I feel no friction.
Glamoured by this thing, I am attracted to this being.
Although others call my name, Their call is not the same.
Locked in an ageless dance, In an ocean I am entranced.
This thing must have a name, What is it that calls my name?
...give up....
...The answer I'm looking for is gravity...
© 2012 by Pthasse Amadeus
Riddle Me This... • Opuss № I