Poems Of The Mind

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For some reason I have an need to write about the mind. This I suspect is, because the mind is kind of like heaven on earth. Depends upon the works of the mind. The mind can lead you to terrifiying yet mysterious thoughts, but can also give you pleasure from the exact same thought. So I write about the mind, so here is my poem Creative Mind.

Dreams of myth upon our brain.
Takes its toll and takes our sane.
Creative vision of fictitious stations.
Individuality of several new nations.
Enchanted witches dance upon skulls.
Entering a void where everyone falls.
Kinds of fantasies that make us insane.
A place where there is no one to blame.

Well now that you have read mine, I would like to read some of yours.

[the_ink_bleeds_faster]

hey thats pretty good. It really does explain the mind's thoughts, like you said.

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

Wow, this is very good. I'll post something later. But I like this a lot.

[Hawthorne]

Hey all, my name is Lyle, so here is some poetry.

The cold wind of leaves
Blows against my face and neck
Relaxing my mind

Brisk quiet patience
Intellectual night peace
Contemplative fall

Sitting in on the ground
Reaching out to nothingness
Who was I yesterday?

The cold wind of leaves
Leaps for the last time, Silent
Ready for the truth.
—The season of the mind