the empty vase,
a growling lion
speak the same language:
hunger
in longing
they cry away
the night
of half appeased moon
when the wind so softly
kisses
the brilliant moment
that mother now keeps
inside her locket box
until they sweep
an abyss's center
and only then
when the luster is dead
she weeps for it back.

hm, any suggestions?

Please don't double post.

It's a pretty poem. i actualy can't find much to criticize at all. good job.

Good poem!! I like it!

thanks