The shade of red,
Was always on her clothes.
But her soul was tinted
in black.
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia
PoetryA soul of a writer, a poet, an artist never dies they are immortal cause they carry a magic of ink splattered on paper. ♡♡♡ Somewhere deep there lies the raging ocean of emotions beneath us, So maybe tracing do...
t w e n t y
The shade of red,
Was always on her clothes.
But her soul was tinted
in black.
