Early in the morning, the mist it rises
Obscuring vision, and hiding surprises
Walking blindly, the world seems dead
Sounds in the distance, playing with my head
Rumbling noises, and the sound of a Raven
Missing my Loft, my home and safe haven
This entry was posted by Zardilann on May 15, 2011 at 08:00, and is filed under Poems, Writing.Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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