My heart lies in the field
Surrounded by others born from the same thought of despair
For we are but seeds brushed away from the trees of hope, viciously removed by the winds of truth
Now what is a fool that loves in a world so consumed with hate but a blind child looking for water in a desert
For what is hope but something these seeds want to believe in, so they can tell themselves they will never again be attacked by these violent winds of rejection
Oh how the sting of the winds burn, as though the anchor that keeps you upright has been mercilessly yanked from the sea floor, and you're forced to watch yourself sink
With all my heart I hope, but in my mind I cannot help but doubt, will these petty seeds ever truly know what love is like?
For we are but seeds, looking for love, in a world where the wind haunts us
And we are but seeds, hoping for protection, in a world where there is none to be found
So as our hearts weep together, woven together by the strings of grief, we're reborn, for we are but seeds, and as seeds we stand, to find love, while fighting these winds of torment
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An Archive of Kenadian Lore; Poetry, Stories and more
PoetryAll the stuff that happens in my mind, story ideas, poetry, and perhaps some real life events, I plan to make some of my one shot stories real full length books if I get a bit of a following, and if you're wondering why the title is as it is, its a...
