The Long Years, Part I

The long years
only grow
Cold they grow,
Stone they grow

They become thick and

Encrusted with corpses
What should have been
And what will have

The long years are waiting
For all of you foolish enough
to believe in your ability
to create

The long years grow long
As they wait.

This entry was published on December 27, 2012 at 22:23 and is filed under Poetry, The Long Years. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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