The hollow, wizened soul,
Still tainted with throes of youth
The hollow, empty soul,
Ringing with pain for all.
Twinging for the fallen,
Cringing for the slain,
Lamenting losses,
And worthless gain.
The wizened soul knows
The depths of despair
It knows indeed
It's been there.
The wizened soul knows
The heights of joy
It knows, indeed,
It's fallen like a young boy.
An omniscient soul
Is craved by the few
That don't know the cost
Like you and I do.
YOU ARE READING
A Book Of Rhyme, Rhythm, And Time
RandomThis book is a collection of loosely organized ramblings - they resemble poems, but aren't structured to be poetry. Raw emotions from the thoughts and life experiences that afflict an average girl's everyday life, these are unfiltered, and as authen...
