deepundergroundpoetry.com
Awake at Last
When the thunder strikes silently,
The world turns a beautiful cold.
A distant memory lightyears away,
And a frail harp keeps on crying.
In the womb,
I was always dreaming,
Of a trip to the sun.
Through the white clouds,
And countless amnesia,
A trip to the sun.
I'm waiting,
On the edge of an asylum.
I'm hearing,
The sound of a single string.
I'm awake at last,
And the music that remains.
The world turns a beautiful cold.
A distant memory lightyears away,
And a frail harp keeps on crying.
In the womb,
I was always dreaming,
Of a trip to the sun.
Through the white clouds,
And countless amnesia,
A trip to the sun.
I'm waiting,
On the edge of an asylum.
I'm hearing,
The sound of a single string.
I'm awake at last,
And the music that remains.
Published 28th Feb 2019
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likes 4
reading list entries 1
comments 2
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28th Feb 2019 4:00pm
Wow this is awesome! So marvelously composed 👏👏
"I'm waiting,
On the edge of an asylum.
I'm hearing,
The sound of a single string.
I'm awake at last,
And the music that remains."
Just stunning my friend i love this!
"I'm waiting,
On the edge of an asylum.
I'm hearing,
The sound of a single string.
I'm awake at last,
And the music that remains."
Just stunning my friend i love this!
1st Mar 2019 8:05am
