& I still hope, like in the ages of old naiveté, in a romance long ago, that maybe, somehow things could have been different. But we were so young & with hearts of stone. We were filled with darkness the other tried to shine a light to.
The flowers bloomed. The vibrant colors of everything we were was quite a sight. A garden of Eden.
But only before the inevitable transition.
The flowers withered quickly thereafter, like any spring before winter, it became the harshest storm. There were cold nights with the slippery roads. The snow suffocates the life below.
There is no wonder to the source of why we fell apart.
& still even after the coldest nights, a small life still sprouts from the ever unpredictable earth. For, there is always something underneath the surface that sleeps until it's ready to be awoken.
& I've learned to let things sleep until they're ready to awaken. 🌻
YOU ARE READING
THE ROSE CROWN 🌹
RandomThese are my snippets of writing. Some chapters contain poems while others contain a bit to read. *updated at least twice a week ** it's been three years since I've written anything. I have published the last couple of chapters I've held back from p...
