Fallen Thoughts
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:: 1.29.2002 ::
The wind whispers over the tops of all life,
Carrying with it years of hopes and dreams.
A fog so thick, easily cut by knives,
But through each droplet a ray of light beams.
Through the streams and rivers a steady flow teems
And in the snow-capped mountains a whisper is heard.
Wild horses run carelessly it seems,
But through their gallops still a whisper is heard.
In a thick rainforest the conversations of birds
Twist their way through bushes and vines.
Throughout the jungle a whisper is heard
Yet none stop and take time to reply...
Maybe one day the vastness of its presence will be felt,
One small whisper dying to be heard, endlessly whispering "help".
:: posted by Michael at 3:54 AM [+] ::
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