What is with the gushing stream— that I begin to hear the cold cries of those winter dreams? What is with the wood fire— that I begin to feel the warmth of those late summer skies?
Dark clouds start to cover up the sky, So is my what, how and why. Heart falling in disdain, Staggering gasps of deep pain. Words stumble over and over again, Leaving my soul distressed, tired and broken. Strength has also made its way out, And I could already hear my fall like a shout.… Continue reading Yours
Words dancing in my head Pleading for me to lay it on its bed Waiting for the clock to tick its last Inviting my hands to have a letter blast Tempting me to never stop Like the chocolate syrup dripping from the ice cream top It's whispering "hey get your sword." "Be quick and… Continue reading Writer’s Struggle