.
swings away beyond the day
falls into an endless pitch,
It was sublime, ( a kind of terror )
who may say, what was in play
what went down, without a hitch,
We will leave this world alone may be
without a clue, without each other, losing find
try to be kind, it's not so hard to do
wondering through the wandering fields
looking out to see within what yields
were given, what strides were we made to pay
the way was always here and gone today,
The lines are drawn so fine and clear
read into them and disappear,
It's only Time, ( a haunting mirror )
It was sublime, ( a kind of terror )
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 874 times
Written on 2015-11-04 at 01:20
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A Haunting Mirror
It's only Time, ( a haunting mirror )swings away beyond the day
falls into an endless pitch,
It was sublime, ( a kind of terror )
who may say, what was in play
what went down, without a hitch,
We will leave this world alone may be
without a clue, without each other, losing find
try to be kind, it's not so hard to do
wondering through the wandering fields
looking out to see within what yields
were given, what strides were we made to pay
the way was always here and gone today,
The lines are drawn so fine and clear
read into them and disappear,
It's only Time, ( a haunting mirror )
It was sublime, ( a kind of terror )
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 874 times
Written on 2015-11-04 at 01:20
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text