Look, how sadly the fir-trees are bowing their branches
As if they mean to show the distress of the world.
Who desires to leave the old haunt- he just stanches
When we’re feeling the prototype of the homeworld,
Which embodies a clean copy of strange sensations
Which embellish the color map of ghost-like dreams,
Putting me to forget it, the late desperation,
Overjoyed and inspired. The keystone, as it seems…
But again I will hear the sounds of lovely warble
They encourage to think there is love and good light,
Calling me to put up. The sad loss, it will hurdle.
It was caused by the sinful background and from spite.
It inspires to fly with my new revelation,
Through the ruminant dreams and the evening sun plains.
Generates inner outburst, with a supplication,
Per the parallel circles of landmarks and chains.
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Author:
cellinic (
Online) - Published: December 11th, 2024 08:17
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: TobaniNataiella
Online)
Comments3
A great title and sitting pretty on the page .. Had to read several times to appreciate the amount of work that evidently went into its construction .. and then I believe all became clear .. Very much enjoyed .. Neville 😎👍
Thank you very much, my friend!
I have really enjoyed reading this, and i will enjoy reading it again later so i get a better understanding of it, Thank you
Thanks, best wishes
You are very welcome
BRAVO
thank you!
You're welcome
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