Monday, May 26, 2008

The Cycle Comments

Rating: ★3.5

through my seasons, gently dying, in an unsual degrade
i feel the punzant stream of gold piercing through my face
and then i saw you, wearing a mask all day
waiting for night to come
...
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Ana Ónimo
dying Seasons
COMMENTS
Rema Prasanna 27 May 2008

Intense poem; expressive anguish of all mortal objects, a cry from heart....good composition

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Ana Ónimo

Ana Ónimo

guayas
Ana Ónimo
Ana Ónimo
guayas
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