Born, living, breathing
in the blinding world which
consumes and takes the hearts of the young
carries them along the beaten path
turning, diverging, going
along
piling on life so thick and whelming
Just one heart wanders away
taking a turn
a turn to a blighted path.
The path of goodness,
befallen with sadness
laden with sarrow
then through the misty dusk
a sound
is hearing
the sound,
the smell,
the taste of joy
and hope in
the darkness gathering
then death the wandering stop
nothing the Journey has ended
the world has won.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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In line #7 did you mean "thick"? Sorry just wondered.Its a pretty good piece.
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