Have you ever once dreamed
Of a place called home, where the house was warm and your hopes were cherished.
That's what I use to do during the time after gold, when the sun was barely visible during the night sky.
I danced under the shining stars as the waves of instability and rage began to crash again my frail soul.
My heart and soul now tattered and worn from
The cold and this thing called reality, for blood has never been thicker than water.
I hope that one day I'll be set free from the constant monsters that haunt me.
I hope I'll be able to see the beauty after the gold.
DU LIEST GERADE
Writings from the soul
Poesiehello my name is April and these are my original poems/ short writings. I write what's real to me, what's my reality and what is raw but also some are just burst of inspiration and I write as they come to me and will keep them organized. feel fre...
