It's all new.
Waves of difference hitting the shores of my life.
It not the same.
I've sailed out to sea, the wind as my guide.
The sun to scorch and the night air to cool. A fluctuation of hot and cold.
The new.
The beginning.
The change.
How much is too much?
What if you got the answer to all you've ever wanted, but it means having to try.
The new.
The Change.
The beginning
YOU ARE READING
Salvaged Soul
Poetry"The mind is a beautiful servant but a dangerous master" It said "so i must then let it serve my soul" I whispered A salvaged soul is not new, it is old. It has lost and is still losing but is no longer who it was when it first broke. To be one step...
