It is your voice that speaks with the blowing wind, gently entering the ears like the dragonfly slightly skimming the waters.
It is your heart that reaches through that solitude hollow that was enveloped in a miasma of loneliness giving comfort.
It is your eyes that sees not the flower's flaws but its potential to grow. Orbs that reflect the flame of phonex waiting for its rebirth.
It is you that says, " Good Morning, Class!" when the sun rises its fiery rays upon the clouds.
It is you that says," See you tomorrow." when half of its body sink down to the horizon line.
YOU ARE READING
Words for Souls
ПоэзияThese pieces are based on the stokes of my own hands, derived from my heart's own feelings and produced by my own mind. Emotions are like the gushing river, let it flow, let it free and let people see its blue waves, feel its coldness.
