Dark Poem

DARK SMOKE

This land has become quiet,

like the East-lands,

where ghosts resides, 

yet one can hear the welcoming silence,

humming through the mountaintops,

down to the valley.

Nothing is heard,

only the cobwebs like ropes,

that holds you, 

begging for you to stay

to camp the night away. 

That loneliness draws out the joy in you,

illuminating the secrets you never thought to share.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s