By sorrowful waters I have long dwelt.
By the rushing of winds is where I have made my abiding place.
Turbulent ground, where ones bones turn to dust, is where I walk.
I know naught of the path I am taking, and ere I reach the end, I feel my doom is nigh.
The Ocean of Storms has caught up.
I thought I could put it off, yet it is fast approaching.
Oft have I wandered, in days long sped, the paths of darkness.
Why do I choose to walk with the Blind Ones? Did I not hearken to the wailing of the Beloved Ones?
The Night is chilling...
The Stars have grown pale...
I have been fooled by the delusional idea of waxing control, when in reality my strength wanes.
I yearn for the Days, the Days ere the frost fell upon me.
Ere the happy condition of the heart fled on forsaken wings.
Comments about this poem (Deceitful Dreams by Soren Valentine )
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