path of not
by Charri Hensley on Tuesday, 19 April 2011 at 19:22 ·
forbidden is the language,
some lost place in the wind,
fortune shines only for thoughtless whims,
uncounted are the days we roam with careless shelters not of home,
in darker times one hope reviled,
tis broken love nor spinning wheel.
A shame of man covered over by the clocks,
foundations crumble as though time had stopped.
Footsteps in the mire of daze,
souls left to search for better ways,
of languishing memories,
yet passed with dawn,
your heart and breath will linger on.
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