thieves
Learn more about other poetry terms
Creative Spirit,
Honest steps a hundred miles,
Stolen beauty filed,
Thieves by night, morning in exiled.
A Thousand hearts, in love, anew.
What is to thank the night for
Except that it is here,
To hide the quiet footsteps
Padding softly over damp leaves?
As darkness slips over the trees
A cloak for mischeif ensues.
Did they still give chase?
On horseback, he rode
Soon he’d tire of their game,
That of cats and mice
Where to go?
If there were no such things as thieves
I would simply assume I lost my stuff
Yet there they are crawling around town
Making daily life unnecessarily tough
We travel across the ancient land
along emptiness and desert sand
Searching for riches and for gold
From stories our ancestors told
Travelers since the day of birth
in search for gems of the earth