| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Gothic >> ID #502683 |
| |||||||||||||
|
O, wicked child of the night,
How did thee plan thy flight? On silent feet over dark meadows And hastily through forests of shadows? Or didst thou don thy winged shoes To steal past the courtyards and the mews? O, wicked child of the night, To thine own self bestowed this plight! How canst thou not know shame? As thine mother did the same! Another chance to begin anew, Now forever gone, over, and through! O, wicked child of the night, How canst thou not see wrong from right?
© Copyright 2002 Madame Momerath (UN: jemstar74 at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Madame Momerath has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |