
These blinding turns,
Have open mouths,
that scatter the woods
In their wake.
These winding paths are like
The solemn, weathered faces
Of wise, old men
Who wait patiently,
To take me by the finger,
On a journey toward the
mysterious unknowns,
Of Life.
3 comments:
LIfe is journy...cant c what is ahead of us!
nice blog!
"I blog because I believe that experiences are nothing, unless they are worded, expressed or owned"
very well said!~
The shadows that cast over
are the oasis of life
Thats what makes the unknown
wanting to be known
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