The end always finds us somehow.
Like the most beautiful flower,
We only blossom to wilt,
We only live to die,
And one day when time has our sorrow tucked away in eternity we will meet again.
We will fall in love,
Then we will fall apart.
We are not meant to make it,
We are meant to burn up in glorious flames.
And although sometimes it becomes painful to know your fate is to lose everything,
At least when destiny kills us our blood will stain history.
The end always finds us somehow.
Like the most beautiful flower,
We only blossom to wilt,
We only live to die.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
