Carry me down to an east-bound river;
Make me forget all I strive to remember.
For this is the place,
The land of the waste,
Where everyone seems to surrender.
To see again all the leaves on the trees;
And watch them fall into the lake with ease.
For now is the time,
Where music will rhyme,
And all of their crossfire cease.
Give me a reason to look 'round the bend;
Where hope and deliverance I can send.
To now stop our cry,
To stand up and try,
When all our sullen lives must end.
YOU ARE READING
Cosmos
PoetryMy third poetry book; inspired by a mixture of love and hate, and developed around the sole basis of the cosmos, which without, we would not exist. *All work is my own*
