Dense Fire
Poetry of the Soul
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When I look back into the past
I cannot find my own reflection
I don’t recognize my hands
Time got stuck in a neglection


The shimmer of the lands
Became of my soul a projection
And the clock with pace so fast
Lost the rhythm of perfection


The lights explained my esquire
That recollections were aghast
That I would become dense fire
That I was not built to last
Dense Fire
496
4.7k
13
Published:

Dense Fire

Poetry of the soul in dense fire
496
4.7k
13
Published:

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Attribution, Non-commercial, No DerivativesAttribution, Non-commercial, No DerivativesAttribution, Non-commercial, No Derivatives