The flute sings the wind of life
Through the rhythm of every living
Rising to the deepest sea of survival;
Thorn lies beneath the ground of times.
Securing the stone of our society,
Seeking for belonging of this fidelity,
Marking our own strange identity,
Engraving our name into our history.
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"Life changes through time yet our history remains and makes our culture continuously alive til this day!"
YOU ARE READING
Her PEN (Personal Expressions of No One Sees)
PoetryOne's experiences and thought can be engrave in words. It sights different emotion, expression and an unexplainable feelings that only word can say. But why we want it this way? We write, because we want to; We express, because we are human bound...
