the winds,
bound to slowness,
fail to wear away
the inspirations
haunting the soul
at every
corner junction,
where crossing
the yellow line
places you
within the
imagined,
as seasons
prove the
old songs
remain the same,
bending the
gravity of voice
while filling in
the empty spaces
- Author: shadow424 ( Offline)
- Published: August 1st, 2021 22:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
Comments1
Truth: be timeless
it be, our ability to sense
veracity
that fails us, endlessly...
wonderful message, thanks for sharing
Thank you
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.