The sun, the only object that we've all experienced to be reliable, for ages is undeniable; source of life, traced to the root of happiness as well as strife. On comes the breeze, as we roll down our sleeves, and reflect on the eve.
As always, another rotation passes, for the ball of fire and gasses, with farmers on the other side just putting on their glasses, after waking up on Earth's polar pastures.
Another day, another chance, another solar powered-dance. A ray of truth, a ray of hope and new dreams, another rotation of uncontrollable, and celestial means.
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Wonder & Wanderlust | Poetry of Roems
PoetryI didn't know the world I read everyday, had a back page, with links to other mediums, in this metaphorical manifestation of philosophical, poetical mischief. This is a collection of profound poetry experiences, exploring the internal, external, met...
