"I could a tale unfold,that would harrow up thy soul,freeze thy blood,and make each hair stand on end,like the quills of the Porpentine-so,Why yield to a suggestion whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,and make my heart knock at my ribs?"
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Again Free
Looking up she can see
The beauty of Heaven's star's, everyone
It is as if they feel in her
The despair she wants to be done
She gazes up, says another prayer
So often is her plea
Take all of this as far as the stars
Take all of it as far as the sea
She looks again to the stars above
She prays soon for it to be
The inner turmoil to be gone
Then she can smile, remove the mask and
Once again feel
Free.....
© Dana Price
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