“Is life a boon?
If so, it must befall
That Death, whene’er he call
Must call too soon
W. S. Gilbert
Of Rivers that flowed, the sun basked
Until time forwarded to the ultimate task
The dawn lowers onto the forgotten trees.
What words would they say, not forgotten,
Least our secrets tied with arms should be
Chaos in wind blows
Never meant to be?
From beauty to spectacle
From spectacle to rage
Those which have pillaged
Tree’s fall; The sun turns to darkness.
I give you this oath on this day
To those you have suffered.. no time to pray
When you least expect it
Shall you, one and all, pay.
-awrj 
Reblogged this on savingtess and commented:
Alive but dead long ago, granted no more what time seems fit. I continue to write for not acknowledgement, nor praise, not coins or pay; but if in hope someone will see one day, see my words and feel they are not alone during their weary and drawn days.
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