The Lake


The Lake

Glass.
A broken window Paine.
a world of opposing beauty,
life hides beneath the surface,
Earths many tears collected,
Eyes do gaze upon the surface until fog shades the view,
Heat stripes the depths in plenty,
Killing the many left unseen,
Bodies lay still,
Never more a movement made,

The wind changes,
The sky darkens,
and I breathe deeply,

A season or a day is all that it takes,
Like fire's dear embers light,
I live again; and life within me catches on fire.
One simple drop,
Glass again.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem