Rumors Poem by Smoky Hoss
Rumors
Flowers on a cradle
Lilies on a grave;
Every lived soul
Becomes a slave,
To the love we want,
And the dying we get -
Life is rudimentary rumors
And salient storms;
It's an unfinished life
In so many forms,
All are stories we hear from afar,
Rumors, of a Land,where lives no regret -
truly the greatest mystery, that we won't solve until that fateful day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/8/2024 4:48:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
i have never understood why we fear that for which our souls yearn! great poem.