Through The Window
Published in

Through The Window

The Grey Hurdle

A geyser once passionate; A sky once boisterous; A canon — once a forerunner

Age was not just a number, it was transformation

Transpiring with parallel lines, and a secret alike, us, waiting on the other end,

Shelved, a crux pouring into the helms, furthering propensity, and like charity

That is when the stream becomes more like clocks of wove

And as it appeared, it would hint of another score

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The Silver Tongue, Rogue

The Silver Tongue, Rogue

Long Poems with the spoken heart. Aspiring for disproportionate independence and bringing admiration to mainstream current events.