I hear the brittle rustling of waves
Ragingly spash the mountainside
Under the palest light of moon
It pours its boiling wrath inside.
Above is something different
The sky was brigt and still
But who knows what lies ahead
If it will care or it would care.
Where I stand now is the land
Temptation lurks on its vastness
'Twas hard to choose from rigth or wrong
Its inconsistency results to madness.
To mix humor ,respect and love
A twinge could cost a lifetime
Yet to hope for joke to stop its scene
Is like handling a hopeless crime.
Post a Comment