Sometimes
when I am alone
lost in hopeless hopeful
thoughts
I hear whispers
the trees
talking to the winds
like old men
spitting secret psalms
on a sunny Sunday.
The universe
she holds my hands
teaching me to dance
to the very tunes
of madness. We
conquer the sadness.
To the people wondering why
I love to be alone.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
PoetryThe Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
