The world lays in motion,
tilted at a angle that is bound to change in time.
Forever gyrating 'round the solar system 'till forever has come to pass.
Landforms shift and their edges corrode.
Plates crash below the earths crust.
Vegetation grows over top the surfaces.
The world's revolving.
Course-less, with a blank cartograph
But nevertheless the worlds revolving.
YOU ARE READING
The Beauty in Restlessness
PoetryThese are the words within my mind that keep me up at night. Pieces of work that I wrote for my own comfort. However, if you relate, enjoy. Pick apart my work to find your own meanings. Do not search for meanings that are not your own. Find what my...
