Until
How quick good news travels..
tho' never was in the wind.
And someday just sat aside,
watching, waiting.
Yet in the strong of heart
the cold of never could
never grow within.
Yesterday was just here, waving
but just as sudden..
disappeared.
If time could promise no delay, no moans of pain,
or wind drifted banks in sorrow.
Then 'Will you be' can run-
and 'can you stay' can play
for all of our
tomorrows.
Copyright © Quoth Theraven | Year Posted 2025
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