My ear
to the asphalt
My nose
in the wind
My mind
on tomorrow
Escaping
my sins
The road bends
before me
It twists
and it turns
Where truth
waits forbidden
And love stays
unearned
The voices
grow faint
In this gale
to escape
In front
and behind me
Both early
and late
As the mountain
implores me
Still calling
my name
With fate
at its limit
And death
— here to claim
(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline)
- Published: April 28th, 2025 11:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, KTay
Comments3
Smooth reading. Very nice
Thanks again.
much enjoyed
Thanks
welcome
Rings like excellent poetry, my friend. So beautiful. A wonderful poem. 🌹👏
Thank you, again.
You are welcome, Kurt.
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