Poem, Sagas, Scenic, Short story

Beneath leaves

Of all the things forgotten,

So grow the trees upon the stone,

And so the time moves on.

The rains may come and sun will shine,

The dust will scatter in the breeze,

And so will time go on.

Come nature’s grasp to take firm hold,

To shade the world from days of old,

And so time travels on.

As things are forgotten,

And the world grows dark at dawn,

Time carries on in silence as the world comes tumbling down.

 

 

 

A prompt response.

8 thoughts on “Beneath leaves”

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