nature

  • Dawn

    The stars of the dying night cry out,
    To the one rising; 
    And knowing the end to their life no doubt,
    They fade, compromising.

  • Death of a Broken Heart

                                            spirit,
    The thought of you lifts my 
                                                                y     .           .           .
                                                     a
                                            w
                                     a
    It lifts me so high I fly
    But then I f
                     a
                        l
                          l
                    for you bringing m
                                               e
                           back down to earth,
    But you weren't there to catch m
                                                   e
                               So I hit the ground,
                             And broke my  .   .   .  h . e . a . r . t .
     

  • The Window

    I studied the rain drops glide down the glass of the window.
    I voluntarily let the nostalgia pound at my chest.
    With every aching memory, I finally shed the tears that were trying to evaporate instead of pour out.
    Eventually, the window and I had the same amount of water drip downward upon us.
    I am the window.
    Still and innocently being pounded with the various weather.