Voices rise,
back firing like a war that started over nothing.
Two burning flames,
held by a tied rope that just won't break.
Once the voices become softer
and we surrender,
the flame finally goes out.
We suddenly learn to love again
It is as if we crave for these afflictions
and once it settles.
We remember how to love
and so, it allows us to starts again.
- anonymous
YOU ARE READING
I wish that I didn't write these poems.
PoesíaVarious collective of unwanted poems I have written; for people who are fond of the subjects of heartache and who are disorientated through the navigation of this world. Let me share this with you. My emotions are inconsistent and messy, please in...
