***
I am an epitome of the past,
Bundled with beauty and battle scars,
Showered with salt and ash,
Only to bloom for the sake of survival,
To withstand their eyes of scrutiny,
Blossoming from love and water,
And a little bit of sunshine after rains,
I am but a small speck of dust,
In a world full of much more bigger things,
But I am also a survivor,
A survivor of pain and trauma,
The outcome of stars and oblivion.
***
"Survive and one day, you'll look back and smile at your accomplishments. Survive and you'll cry out of sheer happiness after your hardships have passed..."
YOU ARE READING
A World of Poems
Poetry"The dead that weaves in the spindle, A bundle of silk - woven and spun, Collected and collected, Until it's a huge massacre of stars." -Excerpt This is an original made poetry collection about life and are written in many forms of genre like love...
