Webs had formed in her heart. That oh-so-dark soul kept wandering throughout the gardens of black roses; which thorns were leaking blood from the suffering of the past. Dim faded memories congratulated the unborn spark of sanity.
A glare shot at her from beneath the melancholic thought in her head. Calling her out to play. Calling her out for a new day. On the other side was her dream, yet with open eyes, it didn't seem believable. The silver soul perpetuated the endless disaster.
YOU ARE READING
Infinity
PoetryA dazzling view of words. Multiple perspectives of life and my deepest thoughts and feelings. I write to relieve it all. Thanks for reading! ~Highest rank: #102 in poetry~
