Bed of Leaves
Beneath crimson leaves in their last lorn dance,
As memories’ romance haunts within,
I cling to dreams’ unravelling thread,
Sunk in this bed of past’s fallen sins.
I wrote this poem in the form of a Toddaid.
Beneath crimson leaves in their last lorn dance,
As memories’ romance haunts within,
I cling to dreams’ unravelling thread,
Sunk in this bed of past’s fallen sins.
I wrote this poem in the form of a Toddaid.