Jan 09 2018
Dark
Solid ground to stand on— is all I ever want,
On the ground in which you stand by me,
The ground in which we flaunt, it’s
Surface covered in flowers,
But with lots of room to grow,
Empty rows of unknown crop,
In the land we reap and sow,
The yield will show our greatness, the
Heart we love and bleed,
There’s plenty room for both our hearts, and
Passion in our fields—
In due time I know we’ll find it, yet
The words we say do starve us,
Words within the pages,
I still wait until their harvest,
Speak softly I do say to you,
But be ready for the storm,
I’m lost within the cold dead days,
Emotionless, cold not warm
And in emptiness, the
Dark does form.
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