Shakespearicles

Not all those who wander are lost.

0 notes

Work ramblings.

Burn the land, and boil the sea;
you can’t take the sky from me.
Through valleys, rivers, and hilltops free,
a distant shore calls out to thee.
Burn the land, and boil the sea;
you can’t take the sky from me.
Above the oceans black, and emerald greens,
the skies foster stars to lands unseen,
with kinder worlds, where I long to be.
Burn the land, and boil the sea;
you can’t take the sky from me. 

Filed under crappy amateur poetry poet space stars