Gone with the wings of night,
Fog and drowsy moon,
That shines like honey,
Melon and sweet lemon drops.
My eyes wide, child like;
I search the hazey skies,
Finding beauty in the bleak heart,
Of the raven amidst my dreams.
YOU ARE READING
Shadows
PoetryLife is constantly weighed down by its past. Every breath, every action, leaves an imprint of the world. The question is wether our memories will bring shadows upon our path, or will we ever simply stand in the sunlight?
