Migration
Followers are we
Merely travellers beneath
And the Moon- she guides our way
Hoarders or murderers or craftsmen be we
She shines the path
And we follow obscenely
Down dingy alleys and up-
Up the vale
We walk the path we know we must trail
Till the harsh light of morning shines garish and new
We are the followers
Who follow the Moon
YOU ARE READING
The Ramblings of A Lunatic
RandomThis is a record of the thoughts in my head through the current span of my life. It is not a novel. It will have pieces of poetry and full blown rants. I hope that anyone reading this will be able to relate. And if you actually are reading this 'jo...
