the thought is still,
disturbing like a whisper
as I replenish everything I’ve given
though I have lost her, in return.
the broken statue dreams no more,
the winged objects peck at the crumbs.
as I try to imagine
what I am looking at- I have won.
I surrender, I am done.
continue melting underneath your frozen sun.
under skies of fire- I’ll unbend- I will try,
to once again ..
rise?
memories build melancholic pictures that spring exhaustion towards the drowning night.
your weakness once was my strength,
now it falters as I let go-
I cannot save you anymore.
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c
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