Sketch a diary in autumn frost
leave behind a sorrow lost.
A night beneath whispering stars and
listen to their voices afar
for they may drift in colossal numbers
yet their words speak -
the words of the wise
and the words of the weak
for there lies a thousand wishes
so hopeful in brindled streaks
And at last they remain -
captured by the stars,
but freed from the night.
gd
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
Sketch a diary in autumn frost
leave behind a sorrow lost.
A night beneath whispering stars and
listen to their voices afar
for they may drift in colossal numbers
yet their words speak -
the words of the wise
and the words of the weak
for there lies a thousand wishes
so hopeful in brindled streaks
And at last they remain -
captured by the stars,
but freed from the night.
gd
I came across this in one of my old journals dated: June 16th, 2011