She once whispered to me Of things which truly matter Only once will I say this She told me It is then up to you
Tag: Reflection
Of Prophets and Rivers
I sat with an old man on a weathered bench near the bank of a section of river most don’t come to anymore. He welcomed
Too Late
It’s too late For the light to change These adornments Permanent Fixed to the existential Crisis of the moment We find it better To run
Colder Than Before
If I could have seen Known this, years before When I had nothing No color, only sound Echoing throughout, between Innocence in the past tense
What We See
We see angels And we see demons They carry These things We can’t let go Dancing from Room to room Through doors Left open In
Just Different
I don’t recognize Any of this But it’s not so bad Just different There’s something Comforting About the end -Or so it seems
