Original Poetry

Original Poetry


On a flat world, where the white king rules,
The rest of us chase a setting sun,
And for it are labeled fools.

But I know the dance of stars,
The steady course of planets fall,
How our people wandered far,
How we answered our own call.

Around a green and verdant sphere,
Ablaze with artificial light.
Where the night is always near,
We stretch the limits of our sight.

I am weary, I am weak,
This cosmic race has fractured me.
The twilight in me left complete,
No light within to help me see.

Tomorrow dawns in our hearts,
As much as it does upon the hills.
Yet some nights break our will apart,
And the shadow in us kills.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s