Sing to the winds
with the breath in my lungs
and dance 'round the flames
to the beat of earth's drums.
Water be my blood
and my bones be made of stone
from the day I am born
to the night I grow old.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoesiaLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
blessed be the temple of my soul
Sing to the winds
with the breath in my lungs
and dance 'round the flames
to the beat of earth's drums.
Water be my blood
and my bones be made of stone
from the day I am born
to the night I grow old.
