Enchanting recitals ,
and marvels from the privy,
Invoking the words inferred by our ancestors,
Precluding us from the null past,
Darkened hearts and souls crying foul,
That it would be at our detriment,
"Deter from the bloody paths",
The orchestral voices induced ,
And the soothing surreal sounds gave us solace ,
Divined writings engraved,
Indited in our memoirs and memories
Proscribing us from what we once were;
Scavengers of what they left over for us ,
But our egoistic selves hear not,
of the nuggets adduced by the songs,
The wisdom it insinuates;
lest we seek our pellucid selves ,
Frenzied forever we shall be.
YOU ARE READING
THE BOY ON THE BRIDGE.
PoetryThe weakest ink harbors the strongest minds. A collection of thoughts that will blow your mind. Some emotions laced herein are quirky, any similarity to real characters is just a mere coincidence*
