The skies will bleed.
The birds will weep.
The flowers will wither.
The sun goes below the horizon.
The water will go dry.
The greens will perish.
But the love will lay still.
YOU ARE READING
The Wanderer
Poetry"Part of me wants to love you recklessly. Surrender every piece of cells in my body." These are my heart and thoughts. -PrimroseRed
