{A/N}: Yay, happy!!
Hope,
Sometimes predictable and
Sometimes otherworldly.
The tremor you feel growing inside you
is hope,
Wobbling on its unsteady feet but
Looking out at the sky.
Watching for that bird,
Waiting for the storm to abate and
The sun to shine through.
And though the hope hasn't awaken in years -
and it hasn't stood up in years,
It has risen up against its own will.
Because it believes
It might
Have a chance for once.
YOU ARE READING
Oblivion
PoezjaJust a timeline of what happens when I'm hit with strange sparks of inspiration during completely random times. These poems may be dark, depressing, hopeful, or even motivational. Read at your own risk, and updates, as well as the length of these po...
