Time
The winded plain stretches off ahead
Leaving in its trail ashes of time instead
The fire withers and dies
As the afterglow marks its want to die
I wandered on bent toward the setting sun
With each step marked and done
The road marked ahead for me
With plenty left for me to want to be.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
