Death to the eye
Life to the earth
Liberty to the wind
Nothing lost to the universe
A while later,
You're still you.
Pick up your crown
wear it
It's still yours
It just fell off
YOU ARE READING
The Voice of My Silence
PoetryThe words that he spat germinated and grew into the tree that overshadowed him What goes around.. From the author: vote and comment if you like what you see
