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From nonexistence we rose,
to fire, lightnening and souls.
From nothingness we rose,
to flesh, blood and bones.
Flowers rise from dirt,
phoenixes rise from ashes,
but nonbeing can rise with wounds,
nonbeing can rise after being drowned,
nonbeing except the profound
s u r v i v o r s.
-Human Legend, Caligo.
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PoetryThat's the thing with being the quiet girl, only papers know what I say. Part I of The Zeros. | was featured | #3 in poetry |
