She is fused with fire,
yet doused by
dampened dreams,
searching for salvation
on the brink of
every brittle scream;
she is a minefield
of catastrophe,
bathed in
polychromatic hues,
waiting for a lifeline
to pull her out of the blues;
yet fate is a visceral feeling,
and once she escapes
from the rain,
she will bloom
most magnificently,
and her flame will be
lit again.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments
PoetryPoetry and fragments of my mind. Dealing with heartache, betrayal, sorrow, and hope. Originally posted on Instagram and Facebook.
