The rod glints in the silver moonlight,
Dripping the bait into the icy pool below
Waiting, waiting, a calm stillness fills the frosty air
Waiting, waiting, a calm stillness fills the frosty air
A shadow creeps over the scurried ground afar
As the lake hums a tone of all those we have lost
Fishing for memories of times celebrated together
As one, as a group, in the faded burnt sky
A face among the darkened clouds shines
As their name is forever called amongst the wind
As the lake hums a tone of all those we have lost...Copyright © 2023 Willi-van-de-Winkel. All rights reserved. |