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 I am starting the new Millennium with the newest competition, the Contest for The Poet of the New Millennium. This contest will serve as a thread, connecting and reaching from the passing century to the next one. You, readers, are welcomed to send us your creations of spiritual poetry. This time both the poet, who will get the most of votes, and a voter, who will be randomly drawn, will receive prizes, courtesy of Project X. All of you, of course, can vote for your favorite poem, but only when their list will be completed. I have a sincere favor to ask - please choose you poem carefully and seriously; in case you don't recall it, links to our previous archived issues or other webpages will be supplied. Here are the entries for the poetry contest so far: 1. Aldarow - "No Traces" - issue # 25 2. Judith - "Angel Sword" - issue # 27
3. Night - "The Chosen / I must go west..." - Project Y Sections And now, to the contestant number four, Rinor Zidran I can still dream I can still dream At night, when it's cold Tonight, as I was told From behind I can hear him Shouting at me But I know where I want to be And so I go Pass the sand See another land I can still dream At night, when it's cold So I was told I can still hear him at the back Shouting at me Still, I know where I want to be After night came the day I can still dream here in the sand Even if it's another land No one is shouting now No one is here right now I feel cold Remember what I was told Yes, I can dream When it's cold Everything is gone But I'm still standing I can feel the dawn It's my soul that is landing Eyes open And there I see him Tears in his eyes A cross in his hands lies I am not cold I just wonder Can I dream again And I wonder Who is this man? To read more of Rinor's fabulous poetry, go to Art > Poetry and Prose.
Originally published in Project X Newsletter #28
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