·   ·  6324 poems
  •  ·  3 friends
  • B

    S

    3 followers

Struggle

My soul is like the oar that momently
Dies in a desperate stress beneath the wave,
Then glitters out again and sweeps the sea:
Each second I'm new-born from some new grave.
  • 23
  • More
Comments (0)
Login or Join to comment.