Mystery surrounds
We can not tell
We know not
How we fell
I am cursed to walk
Among those down low
Where people pass
And time is slow
Where leaves turn brown
Where rivers freeze
Where the sky turns dark
And you can feel the breeze
This foreign place
I do not know
I want the truth
That will never show
I want to be told the secret
To this foreign land
But I fear I lost the bet
Question is, at who's hand?
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:35 AM UTC
Mystery surrounds
We can not tell
We know not
How we fell
I am cursed to walk
Among those down low
Where people pass
And time is slow
Where leaves turn brown
Where rivers freeze
Where the sky turns dark
And you can feel the breeze
This foreign place
I do not know
I want the truth
That will never show
I want to be told the secret
To this foreign land
But I fear I lost the bet
Question is, at who's hand?
Inspired by Gnosticism