In the distant lands,
The lone birds sing,
Of promises,
That hurt their wings.
The dust will rise,
And the heat shall burn,
Away you go,
So you can mourn.
The love you lost,
And the tears you've shed,
Have stung your cheeks,
With remorse and dread.
Do not falter.
Do not pray for love.
It is over.
It is way above.
In the distant caves,
The serpent lays.
Its teeth are sharp,
A kiss of death.
The sun will shine,
Through the tiny cracks,
Abolishing,
The darkest nights.
If your heart aches still,
You must have strong will,
As the serpent's lies,
Will roll the dice.
Do not falter.
Do not pray for more.
It is over.
It is way above.
So here you are,
Alone at last.
You have prayed for more,
And lost things fast.
Now remember,
To let greed go by,
For tomorrow,
For your true love.
YOU ARE READING
P-P-P-Poetry
PoetryMy amateur attempts at writing poetry. Don't expect too much, as this is as silly as it can be. Some though, may end up having deep meaning.
