She knows not of perfection. She sees chaos surrounding, many unable to let go of the demons of their past, struggling through waves of their present, still somehow within themselves they find the eye of the hurricane, serenity in destruction, beauty in ruins, the storm which threatens, is defined by one's own name. she accepts that she can not escape because she knows that she is the cyclone which spins about her mind, a storm that keeps reforming time and time. She hears the thunder. Feels the lightning which strikes through her veins. She knows not of perfection for life is a series of hurricanes.
AN:
While looking back I actually realized that today is approximately the 2 yr anniversary of my poetry book, so I thought it fit to write a new poem :)
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Angel's Poems
PoetryA collection of poems I have written some of which are in books of mine or posted individually for votes. Some of them are kinda cheesy or typical. I hope you like them. Also some of the poems were written specifically for the books that they are fr...
