when the golden goose
has lost its feathers
what is there left to revere?
a wretched sight
the flightless bird
plucked down to the skin
they throw it aside
scold it for its mistakes
and find another to sacrifice
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
