Frost breaks through ice,
Tainting the flower underneath the glass, broken memories transpire
And to think, we live in such a desolate land,
Crushed by human kind,
Bent to our desires.
The wind whispers its wishes,
Communicating with the sun behind the clouds
And eventually the dust disperses,
Revealing the beauty of mother nature,
Whom is made of both a body of moss and foliage,
As well as the warm dew of the suns rays.
Winter sleeps,
spring arises,
And finally, the flower awakens,
Though it has already turned to ashes.
YOU ARE READING
Star Struck
PoetryThis is a little collection of poems I've made. Not sure how long I'll continue it, but I'll make a few. {Completed! There's a sequel book if you'd like to read it, the sequel is called "Milky Way"} Note: This was called "Book of Poems" previously...
