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The sisters would dance under the burning sun,
to rejuvenate the youth they once lost;
they would ask the birds of the sky to sing
and the snakes of sand to speak,
all of this
just for hope of rain to pour.
But the sisters would never see the rain,
for the sun would take away their age,
consuming every ounce of it.
In the end,
they would always lose,
for they were unforgiving in their youth.
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YOU ARE READING
between you and me
Poetry☆A collection of poetry that's between you and me☆ ♡Ongoing♡ ▪︎Some works were previously posted on Instagram▪︎
