but a day goes by in this retched life
we all see what has become of us and yet not cry
for there is not a thing to be done
haste we show not, for the tidings we sow
love is eternal in its slumber, fear it well
for once it grasps there is no return.
it claws and digs until none is left, but
our true selves to sit and share
these days we may rue, but forget not
the time that has expired and gone
born to die, too timid to live
our fate is drawn, tempt it
No comments:
Post a Comment