Nichole Webb

A cacophany of thunder, wind, and birds,
Adissonant struggle to be heard,
The boom of the thunder,
Tearing the winds fragile voice asunder,
...

A world of illusion,
A spherical realm of princes and magic,
The scene of betrayal and murder,
Tempered by love and happiness,
...

The twittering of little birds and the clicking of insectes echo away in the distance,
A new world is born in the morning.
The sun filters through the majestic trees,
Revealing a hidden world with silver falling down to the ground,
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I am alone this night,
underneath the starlit sky,
Nothing but the stars to comfort me.
I raise my head in homage to the moon,
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On a street corner in Paris,
While everyone was sleeping,
A shadow prowled the rooftops,
A little feline out for a midnight stroll,
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It sounds like a river flowing into a faraway land,
It speaks in whispers like the wind,
Mysterious, quiet, as if hiding a precious secret.
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A reflaction in times still waters.
At first the image is clouded,
The past shrouded in mysery.
Then as the water begins to settle, an image is formed,
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You are gone.
Even now that I have said this,
My heart denies the truth.
I knew that your time had come,
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The messenger comes,
A billow of dust announces his arrival,
What kind of message does he bring this day?
...