A Late Walk

February 12, 2012
Skirting the river road
There were thousands of miles of stars
Scorched like blown-out candle wicks
With quiet eyes
Ancestor demands and memories
Is sadder than any words
And where is ther ehope or deed as fiar
Of a demon in my view
Years of anger flowing down
Shall die and pass away

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback