Ashton James' Poetry Book. (Rename to come.)

Hall of Human Nature

I walk the halls to reap my memories.

I feel my time is up and I am sad.

My heart flutters in my past memories.

My soul is pained with sorrows of the past.

I can't escape my own nature again.

My legs are weary as my sight is thin.

Songs of death play lightly over in tune.

Mind sight gone forever onto the wind.