sadbrowneyes
New member
A Walk through a Thought.
There is no certain knowledge of my passing
Where i have walked in woodland after dark..
just the crushed pine needles who knew my step,
Just the withered bough where i knelt to rest...
The imprint in the snowflakes that once held a flower
And the memories of many beautiful hours..
Where my voice was one with the warbling brook
Where the sky was one with the seamless greens..
There is no certain knowledge of y passing,
Through that place untouched by Man, by Time.
just coincidence =P
There is no certain knowledge of my passing
Where i have walked in woodland after dark..
just the crushed pine needles who knew my step,
Just the withered bough where i knelt to rest...
The imprint in the snowflakes that once held a flower
And the memories of many beautiful hours..
Where my voice was one with the warbling brook
Where the sky was one with the seamless greens..
There is no certain knowledge of y passing,
Through that place untouched by Man, by Time.
just coincidence =P