Here I am walking in the east aisle
Where I came to pick a rotten wood
Every day I walked
To pick an entire pile of wood
Sunday Morning the sun ray strike
To my dandelion eye
Questioning the life on the other aisle
Curious, is there also a pile of wood
Many stories truth to be told
But only the brave master the thoughts
Hereby the western troop
Acting vicous , loud and scowled
Horse whining , rumbling
A dashling gold and green
A mark of burning emblem
A knight with scorch
Had the courage to take the hold
Offered my hand
And took the scroll
Here I dropped the ancient robe
Long before the awaken soul
Where curiosity take the role
Feed by burning souls
On the road to take the western hold
YOU ARE READING
Poem Made by Me
PoetryPoem Made by Me © 2020 mteasince1999 ©TextCutie - Cover Photo