Indebted

215 57 34
                                    


⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

To the little red kite who trusted herself in the whimsical hands of a child;
            reveled in the ecstasies of her spasmodic flight.

To the promises of young love, as delicate as the caresses
 the birch saves for azure skies.

To the thousands of stars which sang of the hopes of thousands of souls;

                                                to live, to love, to dream.


 ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Scribbles | ✔Where stories live. Discover now