I like to think that
When there was nothing here,
No oceans of becoming, trees of life,
That the sky could not behold colour,
Because on earth there was none.
And so day was eternally filled with shades of space;
sunrise and sunset were merely concepts
Not measured in the severity of their beauty.
-by holly boyd
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
