the words came tumbling down
like currents in the sea,
they say its pretty strange
a lovely painting to see.
no ink to be wasted on paper,
a pencil with no lead
its hard to walk on lands that have been dead.
she took a turn
she writhe with pain
waiting to learn...
except for the strings on her back waiting patiently to gain...
ripples in the water turned into dangerous waves
there was no solace, not even a cave.
the sun shone its brightest, never to dim,
they said she had no place to go, her chances were slim.
but then the wind blew
angst of sand swept...
thorns have left...
time has melted and pools ran dry
she began to cry.
but then where was she?
her strings undone...
and then she was gone.
like currents in the sea,
they say its pretty strange
a lovely painting to see.
no ink to be wasted on paper,
a pencil with no lead
its hard to walk on lands that have been dead.
she took a turn
she writhe with pain
waiting to learn...
except for the strings on her back waiting patiently to gain...
ripples in the water turned into dangerous waves
there was no solace, not even a cave.
the sun shone its brightest, never to dim,
they said she had no place to go, her chances were slim.
but then the wind blew
angst of sand swept...
thorns have left...
time has melted and pools ran dry
she began to cry.
but then where was she?
her strings undone...
and then she was gone.
Comments
ang lalim...
hindi ko masisid...
-erick