A hurt heart is as tender as the morning fog sitting up in a desolate lake. It’s thick and it stings your bones. It clouds your vision. You can’t see through the thick murky mist. It’s like the sorrow of the past making it’s home in your heart, sitting up in bed and gazing through the windows of your soul.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 11:09 AM UTC
A hurt heart is as tender as the morning fog sitting up in a desolate lake. It’s thick and it stings your bones. It clouds your vision. You can’t see through the thick murky mist. It’s like the sorrow of the past making it’s home in your heart, sitting up in bed and gazing through the windows of your soul.
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