DreamsA Poem by NeoGen87
From door to door, path to path.
From dusk to dawn, life to death. What is sought is what shall be fought. Time grows short as breath grows quiet. Sweet dreams are made of these, soon all these will be seized. From here to there, the door opens into the dark and peacefully you shall rest with what was found. © 2013 NeoGen87 |
Stats
195 Views
Added on July 18, 2013 Last Updated on October 3, 2013 |

Flag Writing