she is the bird of a flock,
always flying, always moving.
she is the river by the bank,
flowing and flowing through.
she is the ice in the water,
melting and disappearing.
she is the fire of the forest,
fierce and quick to burn.
she is the air you breathe,
everywhere yet nowhere to be seen.
she is the soul of the body,
ever-changing and never resting.
- all i am anymore is temporary.
YOU ARE READING
Almost | ✓
PoetryIsn't that the saddest word? Almost. Something with so much potential... but just didn't happen. We were almost lovers. We almost lived. These were almost stories. ●●● [ a collection of poems ] highest ranking: #3 [[ 08_03_16 ]]
