Wanderings

My wandering thoughts tiptoed through the hall
Where a clock struck the second breaking the silence after all.
My wandering voice echoes over the mountain
Where a bird flits a feather mocking my call again and again.

It isn't silence after all - the noise is asleep, but for those who resist the slumber suffer the magnifying thoughts in the soundless night. 

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

0 comments:

Post a Comment