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ShadowHawk137 — No Answers
Published: 2014-07-27 18:49:50 +0000 UTC; Views: 153; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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Description
His hands are rough and weathered, spotted with ageThe signs of a long hard life
Hands together in meditation
They rest lightly in his lap
His hands are like stone
Set into positions the years have taught them
I ask him, "What is my purpose?"
I ask him, "What should I do?"
"A storm is coming," he replies.
And again I am alone.
