Beneath the city is a city
That I see in my dreams:
A vast palace of gold and stone.
Bright‑eyed ghosts move through it
And whisper the secrets of time.
They show me a glimpse from a book
Older than silence, written by the gods,
Their eyes dimmed with sadness
Because I will never know them.
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Author:
beano (
Offline) - Published: September 8th, 2026 11:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: turningpoint
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Comments1
very welll said rspecially the verbs
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