it's all an illusion.
how things go and drive you into confusion.
they mesmerize us, leading us into a big deep hole; opened.
then we fall. so deep and so blinded.
we search for a way out but found nothing left in these ashes and pieces.
-gc
[from the deepest hole of my heart]
written in august 25th, 2017
YOU ARE READING
august.
Poetry4 weeks, equal 31 days, equal 744 hours, equal 44,640 minutes, equal 2,678,400 seconds, equal 1 month. aloha, august ----- i write one poetry everyday until the end of august :) lowercase intended! ;) copyright @ghxxna cover by @ghxxna
