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scattered-footstepsPoems
A gentle thief flies through my marrow Leaving nothing but small, hushed imprints The kind we try, but won’t forget, While my eyes betray my final thought. He left nothing but small, hushed imprints, Pinned down by the past, now gasping for release, My eyes betray my final thought, And plunge to where no light reaches. I’m pinned down by the past, gasping for release For now, all sounds of life are out of tune And today I plunge where no light reaches, A single traveler on a lonely road Because the sound of life is out of tune And I, once a tall and thunderous mountain, Am just a single traveler on a lonely road, As the last light shivers into its final fade.
0
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
The Plunge
A gentle thief flies through my marrow Leaving nothing but small, hushed imprints The kind we try, but won’t forget, While my eyes betray my final thought. He left nothing but small, hushed imprints, Pinned down by the past, now gasping for release, My eyes betray my final thought, And plunge to where no light reaches. I’m pinned down by the past, gasping for release For now, all sounds of life are out of tune And today I plunge where no light reaches, A single traveler on a lonely road Because the sound of life is out of tune And I, once a tall and thunderous mountain, Am just a single traveler on a lonely road, As the last light shivers into its final fade.
Written by
scattered-footsteps
American
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
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