5 views
Awake II
Awake.
The morning side
Of 3 am.
Stone cold
Eyelids heavy yet wide,
Rest never comes
Weary and worn
A soul out of place
The rains wash away
Dirt of the un pure,
Gardens grown
Aplenty on the vine
Walking gently
The madness of my mind.
Consumed in spinning spanning darkness,
Always flooding such morning light.
Awake,
I am written
A lost poem on the winds of the sea.
© DRS69a
The morning side
Of 3 am.
Stone cold
Eyelids heavy yet wide,
Rest never comes
Weary and worn
A soul out of place
The rains wash away
Dirt of the un pure,
Gardens grown
Aplenty on the vine
Walking gently
The madness of my mind.
Consumed in spinning spanning darkness,
Always flooding such morning light.
Awake,
I am written
A lost poem on the winds of the sea.
© DRS69a
Related Stories
10 Likes
0
Comments
10 Likes
0
Comments