The darkness grows, and the machines grind,
Unmindful of the tragedies, that walk along side,
The nights are comforting, and cool, with the buzz in air,
Ignoring all thoughts, and the deep despair;
The continuous stream, flowing to nowhere,
Bends suddenly, looking to bank, somewhere,
But the naughty mind refuses to rest, in years,
The golden beaches drawing nearer and near.
Unmindful of the tragedies, that walk along side,
The nights are comforting, and cool, with the buzz in air,
Ignoring all thoughts, and the deep despair;
The continuous stream, flowing to nowhere,
Bends suddenly, looking to bank, somewhere,
But the naughty mind refuses to rest, in years,
The golden beaches drawing nearer and near.
No comments:
Post a Comment