<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392477" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Presage</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Standing over a presage I saw <br>an ocean carrying bodies cold<br>on jagged tide, occasionally colliding <br>and snapping joints like matchsticks <br>all in advanced riga state<br>stiff as smoked dry-iced...rising. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could some I know be within my reach? <br>This I was thinking, as a telephone rang. <br>Oceans hold presage within their depths, <br>great epochs steering a world below land. <br>Breeding life, earth...housing the dead - <br>far deeper than those beneath carved stone.<br>I hear a voice cry that sounds too familiar, <br>then a chill of sudden still silence. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I awoke this morning to the sound of howling <br>and the gnashing of knuckles on broken glass, <br>a hideous scene to awaken to...and the news, <br>the news... made my stomach burn. <br>You drowned last night <br>in search of something. <br>We'll never know what, <br>we'll never know why. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the ice, I shivered hard, <br>i leapt into the icy surf<br>through jagged blades<br>of cicled shard.<br>I saw your eyes<br>look back at mine; <br>I took your hand, <br>you smiled at me, <br>told me to leave <br>this abstract dream -<br>then said goodbye. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I awoke as you asked, <br>despite my fear...and presage <br>and here I stand afront your casket, closed -<br>asking myself so many strange questions; <br>questions that prompt no logical answers, <br>and all the while the scent of florals <br>penetrate my skin. <br>I walk outside, to light and take some drags <br>of deja-vu...as I exhale a curl of warm smoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I don't understand, <br>dreams are very strange, <br>penetrating their visual impact<br>upon our Third-Eye, <br>echoing their message...their message. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am not clairvoyant, <br>yet I swear on my soul<br>that I felt your hand, <br>wet....blue icy-cold; <br>heard your voice<br>summon me<br>you were okay.<br>Omen, presage....merely a dream? <br>Still You're Gone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">FjR</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Frank+James+Ryan+Jr.">Frank James Ryan Jr.</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392477" data-title="Presage de Frank James Ryan Jr." data-description="Standing over a presage I saw an ocean carrying bodies cold on jagged tide, occasionally colliding and snapping joints like matchsticks all in advanced riga state stiff as smoked dry-iced...rising. Could some I know be within my reach? This ..."></div> </div> </div>

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