The Roving Dusts of Bondage

The Roving Dusts of Bondage

Somewhere
There’s a well spouting fortunes
For a worn mass of tragedies,
Struggling home

Single-file into peace at last
Till their chains can endure no more
And burst, into pyres of rust

These parched eyes
Would not seek for long
If only my pride
Would slip away, from the reins
At last

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loftydreams101's

Keeping the world immersed in stanza.