The wealth that's accumulated
Shall perish,
In time.
Like lakes,
Turned to Barren lands.
And only that remains behind,
Is the river
With a succulous source.
YOU ARE READING
rhythm of the soul
RandomCollective of short poems and quotes, scribbled by the higher-self. High hopes come with no credence " The world can be healed with love and herb" My hippie fellas, shine bright, just the way you are. Change; not the slightest bit. Paradise will...
