Ozymandias Posted August 16, 2008 Report Posted August 16, 2008 I lie in the dark, trying to sleep the smell of my pillow tinged with sweat Twisting my hips one way, then the other still that stiff spot in my back remains The crickets chirp steadily at me through the open windows Sleep does not come easily instead my thoughts wander again Tearing through the screen bounding across and off the roof Into the grass, off into the tallest parts then into the tress, perhaps to hunt Always to smell, to taste, to run, to look and eventually to sleep
Quincunx Posted August 19, 2008 Report Posted August 19, 2008 Yaargh, this was an exercise in reading what was put on the page and not what my head made of it. The poem carried me well along what it intended to say until the last line, when I envisioned the personified thoughts curling up to sleep in the grass which was slicked with blood and gore of what they'd killed. There's nothing about that in the poem!
Ozymandias Posted August 19, 2008 Author Report Posted August 19, 2008 Funny thing is, that's almost exactly what went through my head in the writing. So I'm glad. :>)
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