Who's There?
Glancing sideways out the door,
from the corner of my eye, I can't make out
if someone's there.
"Who's there," I ask, but there is no response.
What is this feeling? Is it one I can trust
or is it deceiving me, just like all the times before?
There is no way to know, if what I see is truly after me.
Or if it's just a figment of my imagination:
some form of self-intimidation.
CITEȘTI
The Dragon Became a Modern Poetaster
PoeziePoetry is a dance of words, a guise of flesh, and a reprise of thought. The myths of old are forgotten on modern tongues. Such adventurous spirits seek new vessels - fresh words to don and call their own. We shall write them home, you and I. Let the...
