An ancient wolf
In a long street
Living alone
Across the Treets.
The shadows own
will fears his limbs?
I do not know.
The dark is deep.
Let's watch the sunshine
Falling in his eye.
Will be a pleasure
to see trought the light?
I do not know.
Maybe he's only too old
and blind, the cryng Hope,
Tears of human time.
YOU ARE READING
The Black Orchidea
PoetryWhen you would like to think, get to woods, full of treet, plants and animals. Try to forget what have you seen until now and focus on what have you done. Then the BlackOrchidea will appear.
