Come with me, where the birds sing sweet,
on a pink-kissed sky, as the blue fades from the eye.
Awaiting the stars as the seagulls pass.
No tide of time will grip,
as we slip into one,
where nothing and everything began.
These aren't days, it's just illumination,
from dark to light in the cycle of life,
acoustics to the silent.
Frequencies and energy make it vibrant,
drifting from passive to the violent.
Thoughts under a sunset in the garden.
Knowing to see, for a moment,
where it's golden.
Inkadelic-Dan
The ink remembers what we forget ☯️
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Author:
Poetic Dan (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2026 04:23
- Comment from author about the poem: It's not all doom and gloom this was a moment where I felt the bliss of life to just sit and write... I'll include one of my many tunes.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
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