Campanology
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cubbzor
| Split chimes and reverent tells, | 1 |
my days are full of broken bells. | 2 |
I grow weary of these cracked shells. | 3 |
I never stop ringing. | 4 |
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To forever silence these mighty bells, | 5 |
would be to calm a man that speaks in yells, | 6 |
or clear a mind that always dwells. | 7 |
I never stop ringing. | 8 |
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If released from this 8 by twelve cell, | 9 |
I'd eventually return to this devout hell, | 10 |
for the days are measured in chimes as well. | 11 |
I'll never stop ringing. | 12 |
| 9 Feb 10 |
Rated 8 (8) by 1 users.
Active (1): Inactive (0): 8 (define the words in this poem)
(64 more poems by this author)
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Comments:
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. — Bloodfetish
You've learned to love the rope, as an old saying goes! This is fun. Not all perfection in terms of lines but it's fun, it's interesting, snappy - things a poem should be! Now explain the title? — Isabelle5
Campanology = the study of bells — cubbzor
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