Amazement, ah the withered eye,
As death subsides,
And gentle hearts shall bring,
The spring, to sing.
For where the frailed sea,
Waves do weep,
The boat is soaked,
The raft complete.
As i float through chains, the storm it dies,
In golden compromise.
The last wave has washed the moon,
A quiet bloom, flower sweet.
Upon natures cheak.
Alas none to sail, days to whale,
And the forest echoes in sin.
Broken days, broken nights.
The weather dim.
© 1 day ago