agaze fordaze
Oh one could burn in the intense of a gazeSo purely cast to always last as though for daze,
These molten bones chime like telephones
Close and still,
Soft undertones timing inner zones
Losing will,
Finding light is living bright see how life has grown
Inside night has taken flight with beauty to crown,
A paper white a word of write
An inkling blinking out to sea we sail
With island caps not found on maps with lines
Oaths to take paths to make your soul defines
So purely cast to always last as though for daze
Oh one could burn in the intense of a gaze
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 658 times
Written on 2013-09-08 at 16:27
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