Sombre Tale

Wild and round,
round and wide,
no where to hide,
from these tides of pride,
striking the face of time,
time heals no wounds,
wounds heals not from time,
with pain I dine,
with fear, I sleep,
and tears I bathe,
In sorrow divine,
I seek in time,
the stitch, that saves no nime,
salivating lime,
all orange's lime,
no wine to dine,
just time to die,
I wait upon in pride,
for my flopping nigh,
cloud's the ninth,
when peace like a river,
set to deliver,
upwards to my redeemer,
like the birds of the weaver,
launching; dwellings for my soul....

by Robie Nson on Wednesday, August 10, 2011 at 11:24pm

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