Oh, the sore wave of the time,
Let me take you to the last of life.
Oh, the hazy fog over the fire,
The world is under the man's lyre.
Don't you cry with the cold weather
The rain will bliss you a wonderful whisper,
The glass of wine has yet to drink,
And so the black of the blood on the brink.
Take a quick swing around the green vines
We are setting out into the brave designs
To mend the world that has cracked;
For there is no more talisman.
Feel the touch of the warm kiss;
We are marching in the good abyss.
Hold my hand and do not adrift to rust.
The greed of death will turn into dust.
Oh, the sore wave of the time,
Let me take you to the last of life
From: The Glass Oath
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Huz
YOU ARE READING
Endless
PoesíaIt is the abyss I wander in Floating like I have no sin Playing notes of peace On a stolen violin -------- Ranked#4 in stopthehate
