Sorrow is like a tick as it burrows deeper and deeper into one's soul; it can dig so deep, that not even the sharpest surgical scalpel could cut it out. It branches from your heart to your mind, tangling through your thoughts as would a weed in a garden of fruitful thoughts. When sorrow is stable in its preconceived rightful place, it sheds its seeds, all the while its roots grow thicker and deeper. These seeds are not the heart of the problem, but are the thing the host battles the most as they are the forefront of a battle to reach the surface. The host may have that winding weed of sorrow within them, but it is something they wish left unknown to all the colourful bright flowers surrounding them- after all, no one wants a weed in their garden.
Authors note: At the time I wrote this, I remember I was... Can you guess? Sad. Not sure why I was, but at least it inspired this, nai?
Merci~ Sylvi <3
YOU ARE READING
Figurative Language work
RandomMost of this was written for a creative writing class, but maybe I can add more at a later time when/if I come up with more. They were difficult to do at first, but honestly, once I became more used to it, it was hard to stop and get into a differen...
