Symbolism Poems

Sometimes the road will curve to meet one’s soul

as the swooping thunderbird curves on curling winds

and drops to its’ mountain perch.

Within the curve life takes

My soul keeps me up at night.
If I move in my sleep,
I disturb her.
She leaps off the bed, 
and walks around the

Free will

How subtle,

How winds of fate conquers free will,

Or is it really fate?

Does fate even exist?

How futile, 

How majority of people fail to reconcile,

That the face