Fly. Open your wings and fly.
Soar. Rise higher and higher.
Falter. Uncertanties and hurt arise.
Fall. Begin to drop, sadness and anger pulling you down.
Plummet. Reach rock bottom, even those close are gone.
Climb. Force yourself up, pull yourself out.
But will you ever fly again?
YOU ARE READING
:: Incandescent ::
PoetryShe looked at the stars, and the stars looked back. Trigger warning, I suppose. After all, it is just my thoughts...
