We are the survivors of one mass destruction.
Still drunk at the idea of love
Bleeding through unseen scars
Concealing the raw wounds
Like a phoenix we rose,
With our ashes on the ground.
All that dies is never dead.
As long as the blood still runs through.
YOU ARE READING
Summer: Let The Words Strip Away
ŞiirAs the vicissitudes of seasons completes a circle. It's time to write the last book of this series. It's time to put a full stop. It's time to say the final goodbye.
