The fragile words float astray.
Men’s weak hearts and so are they,
To dwindle like the grass in a storm.
The worlds they know or are yet to be known?
The brittle acts float astray.
Men’s weak hands and so are they,
A lance that cannot be held up high
A fallen man bears a fallen sigh!
The pathetic lives float astray.
Men’s weak hopes and so are they,
Why shall only a few be brave?
When all are set to taste the grave.
Dusk - In this dusk I wish to be the breeze drifting through fragrant gardens, past crickets and frogs, faeries and mushrooms, through mossy ferns and pine tr...
1 week ago