Deadly Sin Number 1
Lust: To be enamoured with rust.
The way that the seasons stand
Upon the shoulders of those
That came before.
In the end always toppling into winter,
As anything found in death
Must to death return.
Copyright © Vaughan Wesley | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment