Through a torn visage, I see the flame
One torch, by day, reflects ages hence
That spark, they say, can't be to blame
But many, still, keeps shoulders tense.
Man, sincerely, calls for homeland
But flame to mirror rends reflection bent
When man, in jest, sets sparks to woodland
The forest, torn, its visage now rent.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
Through a torn visage, I see the flame
One torch, by day, reflects ages hence
That spark, they say, can't be to blame
But many, still, keeps shoulders tense.
Man, sincerely, calls for homeland
But flame to mirror rends reflection bent
When man, in jest, sets sparks to woodland
The forest, torn, its visage now rent.
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