You're wild, a wailing whirlwind
Walking westward,
Discontent to see the sun's demise.
In fact, in truth, I might surmise,
You'd whirl your way
Past watching eyes,
Deafly doomed to disbelieve
Their songs and shouts,
Their screams, their sighs,
Their lovers' gasps
And childrens' cries.
What well-worn prayers
Could you reprise
To lift them up,
To make them rise?
What promise-ghosts
Could you devise
To lift their hands
Towards heaven's skies?
If only words were willed to you,
What whims they might incite.
Westward would they whirl with you,
To see what brilliance buys.
Published by Adam Kamerer
I am an author making my way in life by publishing my work on the web. Aside from my AC work, I publish Penfencer.com, a blog for and about web novelists, and Gloria Fidelis: A Steampunk Fantasy, a serialize... View profile
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