He closes his eyes softly. His lips are parted, slightly dry. Slow, rhythmic breaths move through his nostrils. He lies quietly, and he dreams
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I believe that once something is written, it belongs to whomever reads it. Each person taking in the words that I write has a different perception of their meaning, according to how he or she applies them to their life and experiences. Therefore, I make it a habit never to explain anything I write
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An entry beyond entires, sir, it was top notch. I never claim to be any great judge of poetry or of literature, however I understood your poem. Which places it high in the runnings, as far as I am concerned. Further, I enjoyed it, which sets to the zenith of appreciation which I can feel for a poetic work. Excellent work sir, a far cry from the typical poetry you see on the archives of the live journals. I ask you to enter more often, or to not, whichever you feel happier doing. Regardless, the need for Duegnons and Dragons is great. A battle is left half fought and a legend only but began. The chronomancer will be known, chronomancer will be feared. Want a ride on my dempidon, Joel
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Want a ride on my dempidon,
Joel
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