There is no path for the forgotten.
No glory in their war.
No gratitude for their presence.
Only hate or maybe something worse;
A look of disappointment, I break.
There no journey for the weak.
Those who cannot persist.
There is no place for their soul.
Wandering; Aimlessly.
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The world to a poet
PoetryRandom rhymes and tepid times, My weird wants and witty whines. Moral, immoral , these are just lines, May or may not hold symbols and signs, The path to glory, I guess is not my story. The glow of sacrifice, I'm never that nice. The hardship and st...
