Though I am fierce,
I am nothing but ashes;
Though I am a tide,
I am still drowning;
I am fighting, on my knees;
I held the sword, hand quivering;
Though I am rooted in my spot,
I am sinking, deep.
- she murmured as she contemplated whether she was strong or nearing her fall.
YOU ARE READING
THE GIRL WHO SPOKE POETRY
PoetryThe thing about pain is, it makes you question.. what makes you human? ____________ **Not cliche, I repeat, Not cliche, WARNING, not cliche**
