Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Tonight I Sail by Laszlo Kugler (phonics reading books TXT) 📖
- Author: Laszlo Kugler
Book online «Tonight I Sail by Laszlo Kugler (phonics reading books TXT) 📖». Author Laszlo Kugler
Tonight I Sail
Darkness surrounds me without let up,
biting chunks off my soul.
Daylight fights to enter and save me from myself.
Enemies...more enemies are breaching the gates
of my consciousness.
“Too late, too late,” I scream silently into the howling storm.
“You - are - too - late!”
My very existence, teetering on the brink of insanity,
is saved, but only for a brief moment
by the vision of your sweet, yet sad face...
a face of someone I once had loved way too dearly.
Now there is only emptiness...
a void so foul it reeks of diseased flesh,
wafting into my most inner senses,
casting no doubts as to my fate.
“Help me my dear Ophelia, for I am drowning in the
shadows of your loving memories.”
Memories which are fading as quickly as the daylight;
daylight which had promised to be my hero.
Tonight I sail away, never to return.
The chasm much too wide to cross back over.
I see your slender hand reaching out to me,
but it is too late...too late.
The boatman is here to ferry me over The River.
Life ebbs from my being like warm spiced wine,
dripping...running scarlet down my graying beard.
“Light, sweet light, where have you gone?”
Silence, she embraces me like one of yesterday's forgotten
courtesans, beckoning me with long black velvet gloved fingers...
“Come to me, my lover,
and I shall set you free.”
I now am totally free..
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Publication Date: 01-16-2014
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