Cerulean sky with porcelain glass dreams of textures that cannot last pondering thoughts of a life forgotten of happiness and joys misbegotten of ephemeral love that sifts through my fingers as the pain, sadness, and emptiness lingers within the soul full of despair beyond all hope and in disrepair the muted heart will grow fonder and fonder as the mind waits, listens, and wanders looming in the shadows in the twilight of day with closed eyes and no words to say.
Reason for writing:
Everybody thinks back on something. Thinking back is a very powerful emotion.
I think it makes us who we are.
Birth sign: Not entered
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