"frozened" poems
It is a Valley of Ghosts.
With imprints of lives
Frozened in it's space.
Let to sit and overgrown in time.
With all it's greens
And it's windy chimes.
The laughter and sighs
Of the magnificent climb,
Is what the mountain holds.
And every step of the way
Will be forever gold.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 12:00 AM UTC