SESSIONS OF THE WORLD
Sessions Of The World
Here, where the world was once a quiet place
I would set alone to thinking about my life
how to make things right;
Here, in a world of trouble
a place so cold I try to find peace;
when the sessions of what was once sweet
had no turn bitter;
I this pain holds is the dead wind
that move the waves of hate
life is like a doubtful dream of dreams;
what does all of this mean?
The remembrance of the past
makes it's way back like nothing ever changed,
I watch the green fields grow
but with time all it's beauty fad away
life is darker the it once was
for this old world is reaping what it sowed
hate harvest on the land
sleep now only holds darken dreams
that makes one scream
a sleepy world of cold hate, lost of true faith.
Poetic Lilly J. Emery (c)
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