Path Of The Forlorn Poem by Eric Elliott
Path Of The Forlorn
In the cold
of the weak
Hearts so bold
growing meak
Wading in waters deep
as fish pass by me
a lone witness this feeling i keep
As I Step up the water drips down
falling to a thorn filled ground
and as they rip and pull at me
i feel the blood trickle pass my knee
Then I find a place to lay
and there I stay
waiting for a new day
when my love truly fades away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/1/2024 8:58:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
