We have arrived at a time
When the mad lead the blind.
In the tempest of the mind,
Remember to be kind.
Lighthouses winking but
I'm waiting for
My old friends to remember
And the thunder to quiet.
Smell the influence of their
Failures, you can always
Dedicate our vivid sunsets
To them. Watch them fall. Remember.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
