Lost Love

a poem about an aching heart

as I held onto broken wings longer

they seem to screech and turn

whenever I tried to glide through the storm

of withered hope

they seem to halt only by the calm seas

where the air was misty humid

and the water was ice cold

where every touch of grain was rough

and ever shell was winter snow

all flowers were wilted

and every page had to unfold

revealing its true truthful form

just like it had many times before

my reckoning came when I fell

deeper, down to the core

feeling safe for once and happy evermore



— sometimes i tend to drift into a world of make belief —

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