A Temporary Goodbye In the Broadest Sense of Temporary
With great fervor they write without end
Pretty words that could not even be read
Though he tried, he had no will to lend
The voice inside expiring, left for dead
There was some pleasure even concern
Pondering the loss of the bonds formed
The thought he could not even discern
His own demons, now left him scorned
No more adventure left in his lost soul
What could they truly understand in him
No more desire, he tried to form a goal
A pursuit also that left him without whim
What more can I do, but write these things I feel
What more can I say, I have nothing left to reveal
Copyright © Wayland Bunch | Year Posted 2013
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