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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Writing · #2117319
Indecisive, life, the questioning existence, a stand point, emotions
Crust..

To each and their own province
Which thoughts lie still so deep?
A quest breaks from stillness-
flooding the grounds.
Where patterned buttlerflies fly-
fast away.
A panoramic view of time stood still-
clambors to find sleep.
From what direction does a hostile wind blow?
In which the crust of the precipice-
determines its breaks.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2117319-Crust