Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Bles Tak Comments
Rating: ★5.0
Run into a cold morning when trolls sing the sagas to a golden sea.
Run into the colours of the northern lights when Reykjavik dreams.
Run with your eyes closed into the winter wind when candles glow from windows covered in lace.
Run when truth and storm collide on a cold Icelandic night.
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7/27/2025 5:03:07 AM # 1.0.0
I don't think this poem deserves 1, it deserves much more than that.. Don't let it affect you, this poem was good, keep posting! HBH