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the rolling hills have taught me nought

oh galloping tempest of the years

By A. S. NovakPublished 2 months ago 1 min read

the rolling hills have taught me nought

but the whistling hollows of the wind;

those petals bursting with abandon forth,

out of home, out of sight, out for death.

but the whistling hollows of the wind

carry them to some bleak eternity;

out of home, out of sight, out for death

among the endless void of the sea.

carry them to some bleak eternity,

oh galloping tempest of the years!

among the endless void of the sea

may those petals find whatever they seek.

oh galloping tempest of the years,

the rolling hills have taught me nought;

may those petals find whatever they seek,

those petals bursting, with abandon, forth...

Pantoum

About the Creator

A. S. Novak

Based somewhere in Poland, a blank face. Dreams of studying abroad, no idea what, no idea where. Loves nature with a detached sort of appreciation. Finds the ordinary fascinating, when the mood is right. Random but candid, hopefully.

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