Freedom and Fame
What is this inside,
Is it too willing too hide,
Can it be explained,
A piercing rain, A sleepless strain?
Minutes are drops,
And seconds are stains,
Sinners are locked,
To freedom and fame,
While I'm a rock,
Being tossed in flames,
Covered in moss
that sustains my name
I'm never lost
He knows no range.
Copyright © Mike Conway | Year Posted 2013
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