Sanctuary; I will
Find you in the
Darkest, bleakest
Of moments.
The cycle we endure
Lends itself to be no more
Than the motions
And reactions that govern our existence.
Stop. Listen. We
Are only human
We are broken windows
Shattered, sharp
Watching- truth is
All we need
In the darkest
Bleakest of moments
Is to look at ourselves.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
