Untold Stories

Pondeings of what has come before

I stand beneath this crumbling bridge
An echo from the past
And ponder who has come before
A matey or a lass.
Did they cross this bridge
With hopes held high
With dreams of far off lands
A soldier on his way to war
Two lovers hand in hand.
I stand beneath this crumbling bridge
It's brackets Worn and old,
It seems to bow before me,
It's secrets still untold.
Standing still I faintly hear
A whisper or the wind,
Maybe those who've gone before
Are coming home again.
I stand beneath this crumbling bridge,
Drinking in its glory,
And if I listen closely,
I hear it's untold story.

Reviews

[sithlordjp]

Really enjoyed the imagery of this bridge. Bridges have to support the weight of so many travelers, just like we have to support the weight of so many emotions passing through our lives... Bridges fall apart, we fall apart. But we rebuild, and move forward! A powerful piece, thanks for sharing!