DeathA Poem by Freedom's Child
The wind whispers it's time
The tarnished trees wither and bend The rapids have come to their end The river has become a stream All seas settle onto shores This journey through nowhere land is coming to an end I feel the sniper's beam upon my head Sign me up for my trip on the reaper's ship My voice has faded to childhood memories The mirage of me will still remain © 2011 Freedom's Child |
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Added on December 30, 2011 Last Updated on December 30, 2011 AuthorFreedom's ChildCharlotte, NCAboutI love the water, sailing, and dreaming of a better tomorrow. After living on a sailboat for 18 years, I moved in land and I continue to fight for the environment and those that cannot fight for thems.. more..Writing
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