Under the bow
Feint whispers from the past
Clouds lurk in the quiet
It blots out the noise
As the sun deserts
In the wind
Revealed tears
Concealed fears
Time has quickly gone by
Raising my fist towards the sky
Though it may deny
It rises like steam
Dissipating into the ether
~Moses~
© 2011 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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