where one may find desolation
solace comes to mind
a simple act of consolation
a simple life left behind
i can hear the city sing
her voice is proud
with a morose ring
as if she avowed
an end to her grief
hearts of concrete and metal
immaculate lights suffer
through endless nights
caught in the brambles
of the city life
I would rather walk
dirt roads surrounded
by live oaks
dance the night away
in the open air
near the ocean
we walk the same road
in different directions
her voice calling you
her quiet calling me
No comments:
Post a Comment