midnight slumber
- Reads 636
- Votes 68
- Parts 13
Ongoing6m
Last published Mon, Apr 8, 2024
The sky is beautiful, isn't it?
How beautiful certain aspects of life can be, and yet, how quietly it turns upside down, until the red I loved in roses now stains my feet.
These poems are born from hurt, an avalanche of sorrow breaking into something softer, brighter, like the forest I see only in my midnight slumber.
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#195
despair
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