The rising sea has drowned the distant islands.
The morning people fled the blood-red sun
across the hazards of the unknown waters
to try and make it on their forced, long run.

Along the circle's spokes, right at the heart
of this old world, there's evening sinking in -
and yet they go. Perhaps they still may find
new worlds to sail to and new songs to sing.

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bydemure101© 4 comments/ 1711 views/ 0 favorites

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