The safety shore of our souls
is buried underneath the snow
A chilling winter that consumes us
Hiding the truthful view of the desire to belong.
A glimpse. The anchor. Tides.
Those tides that hug our bodies without a care of who is who
The boat that takes us to our final travel
with scrawny figure rowing down the river
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 11:59 AM UTC
The safety shore of our souls
is buried underneath the snow
A chilling winter that consumes us
Hiding the truthful view of the desire to belong.
A glimpse. The anchor. Tides.
Those tides that hug our bodies without a care of who is who
The boat that takes us to our final travel
with scrawny figure rowing down the river