E
G
C!
Oh harmonious cacophony
Enlighten me with obsolete wisdom
Tell me stories I can only hear
Oh lover, with untuned ears
Listen closely
Let my eyes run down with tears
Icy nights draw in closer
Never warm- the forlorn
Sound of the lone French horn
Oh reader, you have but forgotten
The crimes of our distant past
In this movement of chaos.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
