deepundergroundpoetry.com
TOIL
Upon barren fields, no crops to sow
Where life becomes rorulent
These forsaken yields, they rotted slow
When doom became apparent
Within memories now, those torrents gone
To greener lands beyond here
Yet still I shall toil until the dawn
For there's nothing left to fear
Published Today
Author's Note
A metaphorical twist on the subject of insanity, for Torrents of Insanity comp.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 19
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
