They all looked happy
That it was over
For who would like
To be in lasting agony
Waiting for what must be
A figure so still
By the pillar’s shadow
Still thought
Amidst the flowers
And the rising incense
Of the journey
That lay beyond
For either, here or there
And what it meant
To be free of fear.
That it was over
For who would like
To be in lasting agony
Waiting for what must be
A figure so still
By the pillar’s shadow
Still thought
Amidst the flowers
And the rising incense
Of the journey
That lay beyond
For either, here or there
And what it meant
To be free of fear.
No comments:
Post a Comment