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Submitted on
May 1, 2011
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All that has come before
Is not needed anymore.
What is in store? What is in store
For people that recede like waves?
I crash upon the shore and weather
The rocks, into sand, into clocks,
For someone to come across and wonder
Who is the creator of time.
We are. And when we kill history
We will be free of all the ghosts
Piled high against deaths door
All that has come before
Is not needed anymore.
What is in store? What is in store
For people that recede like waves?
I crash upon the shore and weather
The rocks, into sand, into clocks,
For someone to come across and wonder
Who is the creator of time.
We are. And when we kill history
We will be free of all the ghosts
Piled high against deaths door
:iconlearningtobefree:
learningtobefree May 17, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
this flowed smoothly
it had a lot of meaning
it was powerful
wonderful job! <3
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:iconmjoyo:
MJoyO May 2, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Great poem, I like the meaning inside it :)
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