Our life is but a void of darkness and thriving opportunity,
A place where choices and free agency are at our fingertips,
A nation of corrupt beauty and broken hate.
Our love is but a wish upon a glass forever stretching forth,
it reflects our intentions but is too distorted for others to see it as we.
It is a promise of strong will and hard testament unless you are weak in your resolve.
Our souls, our lives,
They are unnumbered in the cascade of extremities.
They are much as nothing,
But seem to be worth everything.
YOU ARE READING
Metrical Composition From A Broken Soul
PoesíaPoetry is the way of letting a soul unleash the potential it had or still has but was never able to accomplish in reality. Robert Frost simply stated it as 'A poem starts as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a love sickness'. S...
