Our lives we live in a world lit,
Lit by gods, their eyes, their irises.
And yet men only see the one burning the day,
Forgetting the millions that singe the night.
Those dying gods.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoesíaSecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
Those dying gods
Our lives we live in a world lit,
Lit by gods, their eyes, their irises.
And yet men only see the one burning the day,
Forgetting the millions that singe the night.
Those dying gods.
