His mysterious eyes watching my every move, stalking me like an eagle. His defined fingers passes through his jet black messy hair as it is a sign that he's frustrated or angry. Clenched bloody fist, he always has his walls up, letting no one see the real him, see the angel he is.
They say he's the devil, he's dangerous but when it's on my opinion, I think not one of those words are fit for him. These words works perfect, he's affectionate, caring, kind, loving, harmless, and he's like a child not some bad boy figure or play boy.
No, he's not those things! He's different and unique. He's was just a normal kid who waited for Christmas but it never came.
He's my angel.
My saviour.
My wings.
He saved me and I'll do the same.
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia • Book One
Poetrycurrently - completed. ❝ 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ❞ Book One of Eunoia (Beautiful Thinking). A book with words dipped in emotions of a young soul. A book of different genres of poems and so on, but it's also just an...
