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Robert van Lingen
Poems
Apr 2019
Obscurest Haze
Breadth of the summer's call,
Whisper your trying tales.
May yet I sit and wail,
At this season's juxtaposed quall.
Even though, be it over,
It's leeching tendrils reach as far,
As the wind hung sail,
To only fly me closer,
To this young mind's veil.
#short
#free
#verse
#rhyme
#cryptic
#seasons
#mystery
Written by
Robert van Lingen
30/M/Anywhere But Here
(30/M/Anywhere But Here)
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