Majestic Mote

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Egyptian winds,
Changes the season ––
From blazing sun,
To freezing places.

Often, a wind tears the floating castle to pieces,
Blowing dust on unsteady paths.
Darkness hides a tiny mote,
Concealing an unruly scene.

Suspended in a sunbeam,
Hovering, seeking,
Its kingdom deems itself never-ending.
The mote’s only friend is vast space.

Enraging emperors, waging wars,
For glory, power, greed.
Who will save the majestic society,
This suspended fraction of a dot,
Causing so much chaos in cosmic space?

Wandering in obscurity,
Oblivious to the tides of time,
Unconscious of its fragility,
The dust mote perseveres.





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youngspeare said...
Dec. 13, 2011 at 2:41 am
Darn it, you are surely talented! It's so beautifully written. Keep posting! p.s this deserves 5/5 stars xD 
Please check out my poem "Ghosts of the Past" and rate/comment? would really appreciate it!
 
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