Gone (day 493)

Gone is the sanity that I have rested upon
Gone is the broken wing I have mended so long
Gone is the eye of love, heralded with steel
Gone is the breakers edge, chariots wheel
Gone is the mystery of histories story
Gone is the evidence in a place of once glory
Gone is the solitude enjoyed in the park
Gone is the morning call, a flick and a spark
Gone is the choke ring about my own neck
Gone is the control once held at my beck
Gone is the grass I’ve laid with my own two hands
Gone is the bitter truth that never parts from these lands

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

3 × 1 =