meandering to the grave i save myself a few thoughts its a simple day again like collecting grains in rain strangled by the occupations of past, succumbing to the dreams of tomorrow and strums on the guitar. weaving thoughts to beats of the drum. etching on the ground, thoughts about the pour. sketching and again setting the poles apart. scrolling down the wind screen knowing about it all the time enclosing it was all in vain sprouting wings of a new dawn stuttering fumbling words to the lords camaraderie between me and the striking chords thunder connive to again to set the rhythm apart and its been time again to depart and make a new start.
Posted on: Fri, 17 Jan 2014 08:09:27 +0000