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by Aleks
Rated: · Other · Death · #1767976
A short poem about time and death.
Hours without a soul is consumed by the grave

      May happen to be waiting a while they would not, unless we are time

      Yellow margins of the soul happened to me

      My past history

      Chaos, towards the horizon on

      They left the feeling of pain and in peace

      Fall, he led over a range of electrical radial artery

      The skeleton songs oblivion.

© Copyright 2011 Aleks (cougar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1767976-Stranded