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.
In The Cold of This Here Morning - picture source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/200691727122515616/ I could take this car and go, speeding recklessly down highways, never stop, to get a...
4 hours ago