Through these dark wooded hours.. Searching for the light that born the flowers..
i'm finding my way back..To the path..
Through these rain beaten days..And this Heavy clouded Haze.. i
know i'll find my way..i know a lights a blaze.. i just can't see.. In this misty
maze..But its out there, its a blaze..And
i'll find my way..Through these days.. i'll find my way..Ain't
that the way, the song plays..
On these misty days...
The write it has a echoes effect, maybe the beautiful layers of words that you repeat...nice write Rebecca :) again you did it
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dark wooded hours are still in mind. Flowers take birth here in this Earth and search for light. These misty days give mark of emotion and memory. Very wonderful poem this is.10
Thank You! Kumarmani, For Your Very Kind Response! Always Look Forward To Reading Your Wonderfully Enlightening Writings! ! ! ! ! Many Blessings! ! ! ! !