🍂—
The fire that ignites the soul onto thy selves,
Creased foreheads in explicate dire confusions,
Crossing a new journ to find the sanctuaries,
Mayhap here and fro, or see the silent hollows.
High and low and cheers as forethought,
Never had crosser in mind what was once taught,
Grappling the vines while they still have fought,
Furlough, should these things be distraught?
Pasts may deem future as a promised prophecy,
But in the mind of the philosopher's integrity,
Those prophecies may not happen for eternity,
Hence, future is just another phase of entirety.
BINABASA MO ANG
WUOBURNS :: Winonraiah
Ficção GeralThis is a compilation of my works under a name of Winonraiah Wouburn in my Facebook account. Most of my works in here were kept archived on my Facebook account since some issues was circulating with regards to non-credited copyrights and plagiarisms...
