Truly the blind leading the blind.
A drop of memory, in distant song.
A glance of waves, of tears and hopes.
A rolling echo, a grass of green.
Someone lost, found, forgotten and gone.
By day the melody, by night the verse.
I am proud of you. Yes, you.
I was going to write a poem here but sometimes your words only belong to yourself.
A marvelous future, a majestic sound.
A crashing of waves, an innocent drowned.
Too short of it all, too frail to bear will.
A crossing of kingdoms, of prophet and quill.
Does one explore their consciousness, or do we journey with consciousness itself?
Tumblr!
A tiny game, a frustration’s wait.
No more the scholar or poet.
A loss and more, a way to pass the days.
Driven as if driven, having known.
Said the man who was given a pebble, “I appreciate the sediment, but…”
A friend to all, you claim with a smile.
Climbing the ranks of society at the cost of the wilds.
No poet or bard, yet threaten and stare.
A gruesome gossip when given air.
