Dark Poetry

Night flight

Fervent eyes on the skirts of the wood

A sable cry escapes me

Soundlessly

I sail along

 

Above the nightly land

Through fumy clouds

Besides wandering souls

And cry

 

Rush downward

into bottomlos abyss

Fearless knowing deathless

Toward the blazing core

 

Flap the wings

The wide land

alters all life into light

And my cry resounds

Inga Veit, Publizistin M.A. & Coach  |  ingaveit@web.de