|
Melody
|
The rain comes down to cleanse my past
Washing away my eternal hiding mask
I am one of many yet very few
Only if I could make this anew
|
The soul I bear many of times
Sets this world into a melodic rhyme
How many calls of pain to endure
The empty past, an unseen blur
|
The chimes of tomorrow sound
As the rain drains into the ground
Only I can see the distant lands
And hear those forgotten chants
View More Poems
|
|
|
