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Poem – history

September 15, 2013

History takes it’s toll, 

looking at itself and forcing itself to be,

feeling the movements of the time which tries to move,

tries to move to the places which are gone and places which will be,

trying to understand the time which is lost,

time which will be lost,

history repeating,

the movement,

repeating to come into,

a higher state of being which is,

which will be into the skies and higher heavens,

heavens which contain the black hands of those beings,

beings which form the history and have formed our history into their shape,

into what they wanted to be and to let it be,

with their own self.

 

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From → Poetry

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