In his grief-stricken dreams
he sees her, joy and pain.
He reaches out to touch,
but her figure slips through
his desperate arms
and is gone, lost forever,
drifting on the wings of sleep.
~ Aeschylus, Agamemnon
Poetry with a knife edge!
From Photography to Poetry. From Tea to Travel. From late night study to Lifestyle. Follow me as I try spread positivity and love through words and pictures.
Death is the Seed From Which My Magic Grows
Digging Up The Underground
a resource for moving poetry
Exploring the early graveyards of Albany, N.Y. and the establishment of the Church Grounds at the Albany Rural Cemetery
We the People Shall Rise
Eastern, Western or South American; you'll find it here
POET WRITER AUTHOR
Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.
A Collection of Skeletal Writings
Los Angeles Underground Art & Writing