The poetry was flowing
But not through his poem
It flowed through his eyes
On into her soul
His words they whispered
Tears down her tired cheeks
She bathed in his passion
And his darkness she reaped...
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 11:28 AM UTC
The poetry was flowing
But not through his poem
It flowed through his eyes
On into her soul
His words they whispered
Tears down her tired cheeks
She bathed in his passion
And his darkness she reaped...
Traveler Tim
A creative observation.
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