Time captures such the little beauties
The graze overs
The wow that can't be
The elegance is too extroninary
Time flows in the depths of the lowest places
It reaches the dark mystical galaxies and back
It may not be seen by your pupils
Yet heard from a foreigner
Someone deep in the lands of afar
So high that that the clouds know him by breath
Time radiates off of our structured bodies
It forms a tight knit society of knowing
It finds our hearts and yanks us
It pulls us towards the deep forbidden forest of love
The beautiful serenity of the hour glasses find a way to clasp onto our souls
And the time becomes one with us.
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Copyright MyTimeWasYesteday
A/N: I really hope ya like this poem. I've been listening to Bastille∆ nonstop in my car. And it made me invent this fine beauty♥.
Thanks 4 being you!
YOU ARE READING
The Expressionists
PoetryThey speak. I hear. I breath. He looks. They run. I look away. I turn back. They disappear. I wake up. They are gone. Them and he; are just shadows. -------- The Dreamer CopyRight MyTimeWasYesterday
