The flowA Poem by Coubert
Begin, descend, originate, tumbledown without complain.
Deconstruct, build again, undertake our demise, unfold the end, be born again. Pull the strings, inward flow, spiral stream, the forgotten known. The undertow will always thrive, drag you down, rise above, push you through the looking glass. In the end it will begin, die again to feel alive.
© 2018 CoubertFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
79 Views
1 Review Added on April 1, 2018 Last Updated on April 1, 2018 |