romance is never dead—never was, never will be—for it lingers... in the minuscules of mist, at every corner accumulating along with the cobwebs, or maybe even at the back of my mind after i shoved it to abandonment. it strays away from me but it never perishes. perhaps, that's the meaning of breathing with romance: living life as it is and letting love find me again. romance will always be there; it has a passion for existing for me.
𑁍 raeminiscence ˚⁎⁺
YOU ARE READING
A Flowerbed for Romantics
PoetryThe chattering of canaries beneath the cumulus clouds' silhouettes call nature out to breathe once more for I am here, laying above verdant grasses. I carry the heart of a romantic; the art of loving enwreathes itself around my worn out heart. For e...
