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Curse Of The Nightingale

Songs echo in twilight, shadows enjoy the melancholy tune, day shifts to the darkness, movement of evil resumes.

Voices reach out, searching for remorse, apparitions wonder about, not sure of their course.

Draw by the voice of that bird so sweet, such a lovely sound, through the forest it's beauty resounds.

One starts to sing, the others join its pace, depression overshadows me, a frown pulls my face.

Reflections of my life, regrets fill my head, yet I feel sorry for them, the cries of the dead.

ronin67

@ronin67

Started writing poetry officially in 1991, enjoy reading Edgar Allen Poe, reading and dissecting the Holy Bible, and listening to beautiful/inspiring people. Age has no bearing on creativity. Some of the most beautiful things come from those of much lesser age and life experiences. So listen to those young people!

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