The hand of the sun was not heavy enough
To light the pack of dreams I sheltered
In the manor of my mind.
I scribble on some leaves
What I want tomorrow to tell
Of me.

Yesterday is late, it died
At the zero-zero hours, yet,
I still burn unperturbed
A candle, surviving in the wind.


3 Comments

DonnieBlexy · 10/08/2026 at 1:44 am

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DonnieBlexy · 10/08/2026 at 2:02 am

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Davidpulty · 10/08/2026 at 5:18 am

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