His eyes reached for the stars,
As he sat down by the river,
Life caused him a million scars,
Leaves him with an icecold shiver.
Always acting strong and distant,
He's far away from home,
To the space he keeps on listening,
Homesick for a place he's never known.
The moon howls back into the night,
And his heart begins to ache,
This is war not only fight,
It's freedom what he craves.
YOU ARE READING
Written by the Wind
PoetryIf things get too terrible to speak them out loud, that's when I start writing.. A compliation of my german and english poems. //Eine Zusammenstellung meiner deutschen und englischen Gedichte. Don't read it if you're easily triggered. These poems am...
