the rolling hills have taught me nought
oh galloping tempest of the years
the rolling hills have taught me nought
but the whistling hollows of the wind;
those petals bursting with abandon forth,
out of home, out of sight, out for death.
but the whistling hollows of the wind
carry them to some bleak eternity;
out of home, out of sight, out for death
among the endless void of the sea.
carry them to some bleak eternity,
oh galloping tempest of the years!
among the endless void of the sea
may those petals find whatever they seek.
oh galloping tempest of the years,
the rolling hills have taught me nought;
may those petals find whatever they seek,
those petals bursting, with abandon, forth...
About the Creator
A. S. Novak
Based somewhere in Poland, a blank face. Dreams of studying abroad, no idea what, no idea where. Loves nature with a detached sort of appreciation. Finds the ordinary fascinating, when the mood is right. Random but candid, hopefully.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.