Aug 2016
golden sun knocks on the door,
of black skies.
its rays reach to the ****,
to try open.
but it's winter here,
so your early warmth,
is blocked by my night cloud's keys.
of black skies.
its rays reach to the ****,
to try open.
but it's winter here,
so your early warmth,
is blocked by my night cloud's keys.
Sometimes you're too isolated in your winter to open the door to those who want to make you feel their warmth.
