The sun sets
In this everlasting desert
In this forever going wasteland
The moon shines
With its true and full grace
Giving a final burial
To the things of past felt
The world spins
In the right direction
For the things of light come to save
And may you be the one
To do this all for the infinities?
You very well may
~N
YOU ARE READING
Waves
PoetryThese waves can only be painted with the brush of words, the people only being washed away in this unfathomable sea. ~N [#5 in Poetry on 8/2/18]
