Broken promises, forgotten dreams, lost thoughts, shattered hearts.
Where do the pieces go? Where does all that is lost collect?
Some might think they are lost forever, in the ocean of amnesia, never to emerge again.
Some believe they fuel the eternal fires of hell.
Others suggest that maybe they are stored in the back of ones mind, like old papers, forgotten after years.
But I know the truth. I know where they go.
Those shards of promises and hearts, those ghosts of dreams and thoughts.
In the depths of the darkest forest, there is a small clearing. A blanket of flowers coats the ground, and sunlight streams through a gap in the foliage.
Butterflies flit among them, pollinating the flowers.
These butterflies?
They are the shards, the ghosts.
They live eternally as creatures that help the flowers grow.
Bringing life wherever they land.
YOU ARE READING
Petals of Eternity
PoetryA bunch of poems and metaphorical shorts. Some may be triggering for those struggling with depression, suicide, etc. But some of them will also be meant to give hope.
