Once more into the
Once more into the woods,
Once more my child.
Without music, poems are just words scribbled on paper.
Since I donít have a voice I am a scribbler.
Once more into the night,
Once more my son.
Images not photographed by cameras are forgotten,
Like Iím forgotten.
Once more on your knees,
Once more my failure.
Children without love are orphans,
Orphans are shadows, I am a shadow.
Once more into the grave,
Once more my mistake,
by David Ether
Read the story behind this poem
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