What a beautiful evening to bask in the wonder of a book.
A mirror that shows you a whole new reflection.
The pages are worn and old but it does nothing to take away from the pure grandeur that shines through.
Faded ink and the smell of paper fills the air, I am at peace. Time crawls forward, relentless. Yet, the words never die.
When the weight on my shoulders grows far too heavy to bare, and my world seems to be crashing down around me, I turn to a story.
We create such vast universes with only our minds. Characters that feel like we've known them forever.
Oh, what a beautiful evening to bask in the wonder of a book.
YOU ARE READING
𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓟𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂
PoetryI'm absolutely in love with poetry, and I definitely need more practice. So why not share the process with all of you? I can't guarantee that they'll be good but one thing I do know is that I'm trying my best. (Updates only occur during 8:00pm thru...
