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Word Prompt: Wilderness

Them bones are marching

Fixed on where they gotta go

‘Cross the brush, down the trails

To the river runnin’ slow

This is no man’s land

They claimed it for themselves

All the ghosts buried six feet deep

And the ones who rest on barren ground

Them bones are marching, marching

Fixed on where they gotta go

‘Cross the brush, down the trails

To the river runnin’ slow

The earth is crackin’ open

Leeching secrets to the wind

There ain’t time to grab them all

We got them bones to watch

And they’re nearin’ their final bend

Them bones are marching, marching

Fixed on where they gotta go

‘Cross the brush, down the trails

To the river runnin’ slow

Parched tongues hang for death

Eager to lap the poison waitin’

The lazy water knows its victims

Bein’ the one who took their lives away

Them bones are marching, marching

Fixed on where they gotta go

‘Cross the brush, down the trails

To the river runnin’ slow

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About 365 Things to Write About

I'm inspired by almost anything and everything creative - nature, architecture, art, words, music...I like to roam along streets, through foreign countries, and within my mind where the world is full of endless possibilities. I dream of being an idealist, but I've experienced too many harsh realities for that wish to ever be true. Therefore, I look for the hope and the good in small nuances, and I express my thoughts and feelings about the world around me on pages and canvases whenever I can.

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