deepundergroundpoetry.com
Running on the spot
to hear the soughs of distant wind
to touch the constellation of stars
to feel the caresses of passing breeze
sending thoughts through the moving air
no one knows how the story ends
or if there is even a story to tell
life here when its over and done
life there is just a distant scent
sleeping souls waiting to be born
hands closed in fists ready to open
dreams of life of then to now
will they be born tonight
these thoughts haunt me
is there an after, a before
or are we just rats on a threadmill
running the race going nowhere.
to touch the constellation of stars
to feel the caresses of passing breeze
sending thoughts through the moving air
no one knows how the story ends
or if there is even a story to tell
life here when its over and done
life there is just a distant scent
sleeping souls waiting to be born
hands closed in fists ready to open
dreams of life of then to now
will they be born tonight
these thoughts haunt me
is there an after, a before
or are we just rats on a threadmill
running the race going nowhere.
Published 10th Apr 2015
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10th Apr 2015 3:12pm
10th Apr 2015 3:22pm
Anonymous
10th Apr 2015 9:32pm
<< post removed >>
11th Apr 2015 4:27am
They are thoughts though...when time is almost done, we think about that a lot. Dont we.:) Thanks Gabriel for visiting.
11th Apr 2015 8:57pm
11th Apr 2015 11:46pm
