Dimensional
A frost-bitten tree
carried bare back
the fate of a thousand winters.
A transformed cloud
still withers away,
whether by rain or snow,
it can't win.
Stuck between your rock,
and his hard place. My
Sun, never seems to set.
Fate has had at it,
and now bounces the ball towards
a new direction. One in which
Love finds harmony in the serenity
of solitude, but lust is just foreboding
me.
poem by Ryan Arthur Walker
Added by Poetry Lover
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