Of light I sang,
And light there sprang,
Before the countless years,
For though I strive,
Through great deprive,
To face my faceless fears,
That plaintive cry,
Leaves all us wry,
Fast fall my doleful tears,
Still through that rain,
Of hopeless pain,
My spirit still adheres,
I must go on,
And play my song,
To those willing to hear,
"that darkness brings,
All kinds of things,
But light is always near."
YOU ARE READING
Intrepid whims of a timid mind
PoetryThese are some of my works which I wrote unsolicited, solely for the sake of putting pen to paper, hope you find solace in their gravity, or at least find them worth your time. Bear In mind, these are just experiments, I do not claim to have any exc...
