Saturday, February 20, 2010

Its like forgetting the words to your favourite song

the wind softly blows, into fields of barley
between stalks it flows, singing songs so dreamy
but hear hear the rhythm dance, like dandelions afloat
they swirl in a trance, above each music note
come trot along the symphony, the dancers will plead
with green faces of glee, and whispers they heed

in darkness, in night, the light foresee
behind the door unhides a black key
within the given untold prophecy
this world will tumble and fall in debris

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