Thursday, 6 May 2021

Paved Paths

 We pray our lives to be paved paths,

for we fear wet and moss

being blind to the boundless beauty,

found along the leaf mold tracks. 


Every fallen leaf withered 

carrying stories of lifetimes spent,

each moth and bird that hovers,

flapping their wings

singing 'escape',

reminding of a freedom doomed

long forgotten

now caged and paved.



Now that a century has passed

  Now that a century has passed  You might as well feel tired even to rest. Tragedies aren’t so poignant  When staged a hundred times; Comed...