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Rated: E · Other · Death · #1940726
Feelings of what I see when I look around me.

A box full of paper memories
Ashes consumed by constructed oak
A thought that dances like sand in the wind
What will be the ending of sorrow
Is it in vain that I may ask for a helpful hand
The weeping shroud's reflection, is all that's left
The roaring ocean washes away the remains once cherished
Thy noble cry shall fall faint on friendly ears
Awaiting for the dream to awaken, but fear I shall eternally sleep
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1940726-Drifting