"harshest" poems
This is not a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.
This is not romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.
All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.
Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.
I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
This is a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.
This is romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.
All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.
Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.
I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
I think-
— c.s wondering
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC
Dear God, whoever, whatever, wherever you are- can you see me?
Can you see the terror in my eyes?
This day I wakened gripped in fear.
Can you see me behind the lies?
False is my smile, real is my tear
That trails my cheek the stain remains
The mask each day I don at morn
No soul beholds the blinding pain
For not shall I allow one's scorn
Dear God can you hear me?
My screams are stifled by the sound
Of winds I turn to carry me
Away from dismal strife abound
I turn my back one step to flee
When I speak, my voice not mine
Tis what you wish that you will hear
That life is good and all is fine
Expression when my soul can't bear
Soliloquy for me alone
With words that bring me to my knees
I shake with chill deep to the bone
Despair I pray that no one sees
Dear God, can you feel me?
I know my heart beats within
Yet how I wish that it would cease
Perhaps no longer that I shall sin
And finally gain a sense of peace
I wish to hate you for you have made me
Look how I've grown with this weak shell
Assembled pieces faithlessly
The cracks run deep, dear God, pray tell
Can you see my tears and hear my cries?
Or feel the knife plunged deep within
My heart, my soul, my mind defies
Hope, joy, and love, my harshest sin
Are you there, my God, or no!
Why have you made me thus?
Alas, no one shall know my woe
To will my body back to dust
Tis all my own, this place I made
No one to blame only myself
Goodbye, farewell and so I bade
Sorrow, oh flame! My life engulf!
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.
Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.
Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.
I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
My feet are disgusting and horrendous
Crooked toes and calluses tell my stories
the pitter patter of them on the kitchen floor, trying to be quit and not wake up my parents in the mornings when I was little
Always wishing they were bigger so I could get new shoes
Years wearing on my feet, scars from running into sharp corners
And yet they still hold me up
smushing them into my skates, getting calluses every week for eight years
running from one place another and are learning why every type of ground feels like between my toes
From the frozen pavement to the searing sand they have been through the harshest conditions
And yet they will never fail me
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
Life is a rose
Sometimes it showers you in its petals
Sometimes it makes you grab it by the thorns
But even when you bleed the rose is still the prettiest gift you'll ever recieve
My favorite flower will always be the radiant sunflower,
But my life sprouts from the seed of a rose
And I may never be as tall or happy as a sunflower
But I still refuse to walk away from the sun
The beams like glitter dancing off a dream
A dream I'm too small and scared to reach
I am not afraid of being and accepting who I am
This little garden patch grows despite going through the harshest summers, dryest droughts, and most desperate winters
Other roses wilt and wither away
I make this garden shine with the sunflowers in my eyes
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics.
Under curves and over slopes,
Equations rise and fall endlessly
In a perfectly measured void.
Optimized, rationalized, sterilized;
Formulas that never lie,
Theorems looming before us
Like an archaic God,
A golden deity whose
Volume is maximized.
How I dream of drifting in this flux,
Concave up and concave down,
Riding the sign of my second derivative
For positive and negative,
For better and worse.
I would not travel alone;
With C by my side,
Friend, ally, brother,
Always paired with my antiderivative,
For whenever we journey back
Into the past, it is necessary
To have a companion to pull us out again
In case we are unsure of where we started.
Rules and laws
Strict organization, control;
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics.
Order; two plus two is always four.
Sines and cosines and theta
All dancing in the unit circle of life,
A conga line that joins itself
To form a mathematical ouroboros.
But the harshest of the harsh beauties
Presented in this Divine Subject
Is that though there is an infinite capacity
For positivity and growth,
So too is there the possibility of stretching
Endlessly towards negativity forever.
However, it is much more terrifying
To lie in the middle;
To be undefined, unknowable, and to add
Or subtract to no effect;
The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number
Of zero; nothing yet something,
Infinite yet not,
The most grand of all contradictions.
A hole; a jump; a discontinuity,
Easily removed from life and smoothed out
If you just apply the formulas.
Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs,
Is that not what life is?
We live within the grandest equation,
Each our own variable,
Constantly solving for ourselves
With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Bring me to serenity, let me be peaceful
Bring me to a place that my mind can wander and my thoughts can fathom
Show me that the ocean so violent and unforgiving can still have moments of calm
Show me that my mind so dark and cloudy can still have flowers bloom, even in the harshest of conditions
Bring me to serenity, let me be peaceful
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
Say goodbye to the foundations
Holding us up
the values we hold are starting to rust
everyone is losing the definition of trust
is everything just becoming too much?
Too much hunger, war and ruin
Theft and violence is on the rise
and you expect us to just sit in silence
***** all the politicians and religions
they cause more wars,
that’s the leadership given
I’m here to break that system
There is a problem that needs fixing
Instead, we fight something
that can’t be, won
But for a solution, we must become one
Let’s build a future
For the safety of all of the kids
Let’s show them. There is another way
To solve problems without such conflict
through love, lanterns should be, lit
Together we should stand hand in hand
Like a wall made of stone,
We can’t do it on our own
Hates on the rise
behind messages from the keyboard, people hide
Giving their harshest opinions
Cowards are, given
opportunity to speak their mind
Causing scars on one another’s hearts
Making the victims feel like
They wish they didn't exist
This right here is something that needs to be, fixed
But until we stand as one
Nothing can be, done
It takes one to start the trend
But unless we all join in
The world is just going to fall apart
Let’s build a future
For the safety of all of the kids
Let’s show them, and there is another way
To solve problems without such conflict
Through love, lanterns should be, lit
Together we should stand hand in hand
Like a wall made of stone,
We can’t do it on our own
A world rooted in hate on gender, colour and race
These are just some challenges we face
Stand together, and we will change
The fate that we face
War, starvation and blame
If we continue to disagree,
It could start world war 3
So now can you see?
The impact it’s bringing
Through music, we keep singing
To make a change
Let’s build a future
For the safety of all of the kids
Let’s show them; there is another way
To solve problems without such conflict
Through love, lanterns should be, lit
Together we should stand hand in hand
Like a wall made of stone,
We can’t do it on our own
Stand together, or we’ll fall
Rise to the call
Stand and be tall
Don’t hold back, give your all
Be strong and bring down this wall
Of hate and blame, no more games!
Make the change; we’re one in the same
©2017 Written By Benji James
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:28 AM UTC
Letting go can be tough
Perhaps the harshest measure
Many times we will face
Changes that last forever
"What if I'd done this?"
"What if I'd done that?"
Questions to go unanswered
And irrelevant to the fact
The adoption of acceptance
Is your only quest
The only option to be alloted
Now swallow to digest
Observe the tremble in your hands
Your eyes begin glistening
Your heart is in your ears
But who's the one listening?
As it courses through your veins
Something celebrates in your heart
Every storm runs out of rain
The Truth in you prevails
As you begin to emerge
Once again to raise the sails
You've let it run it's course
You've stopped the irradic spinning
Focusing on the Now
Every breath a new begining
The only stake it has claimed
Is to your education
Simply a reminder
Of life's continuing alteration
To err is only human
And Forgiveness is Divine
You, they, deserving or not
Just turn the coin to see the shine
Yes, we have a choice
To see the brighter side
We don't have to dwell
In the illusion of The Lie
Just as it came
Let it go with an ease
Accepting what it WAS
Join your Self and thaw the freeze
It will come again
Your Knowing, now a weapon
It has lost the ferocity
Sanity no longer threatened
You can call it thick skinned
Or unwavering balance
You can call it indifferent
I will call it an Allowance.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
Diminutive flowers burst onto the scene.
I am grateful to at last see that it really is Spring.
I was beginning to wonder-
The Winter birds will wing their way on;
Flying long distance to their Summer home.
They are a wonder-
Winter brought heartbreak, but some fun and joy.
A happy farewell to that harshest of seasons, boy!
Little wonder-
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
There was a place.
There was a time …
There, I stood … still unknowing
and everything seemed fine.
But there in that place …
at that moment in time …
the moment I saw the eyes,
I'd never believed I'd find.
Well, what could I say?
What could I do?
In a world filled with billions …
and there … was a you.
I'd always known you were out there …
even written of something amiss.
I never, ever stopped looking for you …
because my heart always said that you exist.
My breezy Fall became harshest Winter.
My crazy life left my health running out.
I'd resigned myself that our moment had passed …
but this moment … it removed all doubt.
Well, what could I say?
Tell me, what could I do?
There we stood, staring … alone … in a city of millions …
yes, there … there was a you.
Oh, that mistress fate, she is just so cruel.
Frustration, a curse to be mine.
I'd searched for you my entire life …
but now … my clock … knows a limit of time.
You see, I would never venture a love with you,
while knowing I'd have to leave you … hurt and alone.
I could only admire from afar … stoic and aloof …
while turning my heart into stone.
Nothing I could ever say and nothing I could ever do …
But now, at long last … at least I finally knew.
There, you stood … green seas, gazing up … into skies of blue.
My long-awaited revelation … become sorrow-laced realization.
There really is … a you.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
When the Sun is at its brightest
It casts the harshest shadow
Behind each gain, there must be a loss
Each summit, a downhill
So a skilled photographer should know
When to take a rest or take a shot
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
4:21am
Tue
Aug 12
<*>
restless is the thinking brain,
rapid repeated beating
from an overheating sun
in a room of full-on dark,
difficult to weep,
harder to silent breathe,
one listens to his arrhythmic heart,
sending out messages incessantly & incomplete
every single sin ever committed
comes in with cheery face,
a greeting of, still here!
in this ,
our temporary final resting place
finish us off by completion,
makes us full of restitution,
by seeing to our undoing,
revolving, unending, the finally of sufficiently
those old curses
we can only face
by turning our faces away,
drop in, like best friends, come to sunrise visit
though dawn is yet eons of minutes far away,
though relief can never be fully attained,
though "though' is the first ****** word of excusal,
though betrayal is always next, the secondarily, refusal,
there is never a dot of period,
only a comma of pause, because,
there is no ending in completion
only in forgiving by your harshest critic,
yourself, yourself, our selving,
this unsolvable function of forgiveness upon this,
this, the two-days of Tuesday,
to day
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 4:56 AM UTC
**
A fast-track court in the capital city;
A Judiciary of a democratic Country;
Hearing the a gang-rape case,
reserved its order
on the quantum of
Punishment for the
four convicted in the
Gang-rape and ******
of a 23-year-old
innocent girl
A 237- page judgment,
Noting that that the
Crime was committed
in an extremely brutal manner.
“The major part of her intestine
was pulled out from the body,”
the Doctor said.
The prosecution has sought
the death penalty for the
four convicts, while the
Defense lawyers for the
Convicted are pleading
for a lenient verdict.
The arguments in the
gruesome gang-rape case
are over and sentencing
will be announced
at 2.30 pm on Friday,
13th September, 2013
"The sentence which is
very appropriate is nothing
short of death,"
special public prosecutor
told the court.
“The common man
will lose faith in the judiciary
if the harshest punishment
is not given “
the Judge remarked;
Guilty of ******
Gang ****
Unnatural ***
Criminal conspiracy,
destruction of evidence,
Kidnapping and attempting to ****
the eyewitness said
The fifth convict
Committed suicide
in Tihar Jail
in March this year
The sixth convict
was a juvenile at the time
of the incident and has been
given a three- year term
in a reformation home.
A fast-track court,
A Judiciary of a democratic
Country will order
Stop Crime against women !
“Hang them,
Not let them go free”
**
______________________________________________
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Can we call it freedom if it divides?
Is it correct to ridicule revered name?
Was that in defence of freedom?
Or was that for easy money and fame?
They went on with their provocations;
And justified it with arguments lame.
Numerous hearts were agonised.
But few turned wild, difficult to tame.
Extreme provocations and insults.
In the name of ' Freedom of speech'
Extreme response and harshest reply.
To avenge the insult and to teach.
When one's ' Freedom of Expression ';
Gives one the ' Freedom to insult '.
Hatred and dissension are promoted;
And can lead to horrifying result.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
If you were granted the gift of temporary flight...
Would you ascend...
Just so you could feast your eyes
on the horizon,
beyond the confines of weather-worn tiles
set upon unsuspecting rooftops.
Would you take soar...
Just so you could briefly leave the ground
below.
And as the land beneath you diminishes,
all that's you tethered to your earth
almost instantly would turn into nothing
but specks of insignificance.
Would you fly free...
Just so your heart could entertain the possibility
of being ensnared by the breathtaking
view of the sun,
as it rests its pompous girth upon its bed of
clouds;
Like a bratty king sprawled over lavish sheets.
Would you burst through the boundary...
That separates heaven and earth.
Just so you could be bewitched by the full blown
moon,
be enthralled by the siren calls of the stars,
and be a part of the spectacle that is the
universe...
If you were granted the gift of momentary flight...
Would you still ascend?
Knowing full well that soon gravity would claim
you with less than no pity nor remorse.
And all that you had complacently forsaken...
Will greet you with the harshest of punishments.
I would.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
"I painted a picture today"
I'm hoping it inspires people in a similar way that my poetry does
No ! I hope it does more than that
I've scrutinised and criticised it from all angles
Til my energy drained
It's of a sunset
The colours are vivid n just right "or are they"?
My local gallery's displaying it at a fair price or is it?
I'm not sure if it's hanging in the best place?
Does that matter?
It's taken a long time to complete
I'm surprised they thought it was good enough ?
I am my harshest critic
A perfectionist ......
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
i disembody you in poetry:
thin scabs film over your bones,
i pick them until i find new skin to lay my kisses on —
a new land to baptize
with my own heathen hands,
i disembody you with them:
chest spread open like that of a dressed foul.
my body is too corrupted but it knows of intense longing,
piercing live-coal eyes, it burns
my neck like a crucifix,
like flames on a burning metal —
it heals, almost cleanses like holy fire
and with new bones,
i disembody you in poetry:
an attempt to see you, hold you, love you whole
without it consuming me:
a sight of pink lips, pink tongue,
pink columbines on your wrist;
i take apart your entirety,
press it, piece by piece on my fragile nail bed — hidden away
somewhere the world loses its sight.
and maybe now after all the cycles, it is the world's turn
to fumble far and wide, to despair in search for your hands —
your eyes
that unsettle and leave the cosmos
collapsing majestically
in its own harshest daylight
leaving us all disembodied
in blinding, vivid, solar colors.
forgive my compulsions to love you like this.
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 12:15 AM UTC
This one's for she who wears the glow in the dark specs.
The one nobody disrespects!
The one who always has the biggest smile on her face.
The one who constantly conducts herself with impeccable grace.
The one who isn't a afraid to be different, to stand out and defy the norms.
The one who's light still shines, so bright, even after weathering the harshest of storms.
The one who sees nothing but goodness inside.
The one who makes me feel as if I I am airborne, I can simply spread my wings out and glide.
I have been afforded the greatest honour by her, she considers me her sibling, that alone gives me the biggest sense of pride.
Some say: "Money buys you happiness."
I will not argue, that could be true.
But couldn't the same be said about love too?
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Outside still clouds gather
Here inside I don’t understand
What hole I am
And what it means
On the leaves and grass the mist clings
I hurt
And try to find
What reason I have
For this anger
I hold
Shaken by the breeze,
Drops of water fall
I want it to leave
And not say goodbye
I have no love for it
Here it hurts and eats away
At all I have made
Of my heart and soul
But now this anger
Deep and awful
Rumbles along
With approaching thunder
Haunts
And I try
To rid myself of the pain
Look away from the quick flashes
But without a source
A reason why
I cannot solve
This mess inside and
Lightning slashes, branches bow and
I hurt
Cause it won’t go away
And I feel as if all
I have to say is
To hell with
Everything and everyone
As precipitation swirls and clouds darken further
Because all that matters
Is the tornado that holds
All my organs and emotions
Crashing and churning
In one same whirling vortex
But I know that it’s wrong
To me so self-righteous
As wind breaks and takes
I cannot stand
The ones who seem to
Indeed share my own fault
For the ones with whom you share
Are the souls upon whom you are the harshest
And I do not like to admit
To the things that make me
Like all the rest
I am cruel
I do bad things
I am mean
I hurt
I am human
I am caring
I am soft
I hold
I break
I am ashamed
To be who I am
walking a two way street
I attempt to hold my head high
Because I know what is right
But other minds won’t agree
The trees who’s leaves the storm has taken
Yearn for them once more
My head chases me in circles
So to confuse me
And I begin to cry out
But the storm recedes
In frustration and fury
At my own head’s distaste
And demure
I am not who I want to be
This storm has changed
And I am not the perfection
That is trained into the lines
That wind and rain have worn
On my personality
Perfection for me and all is impossible
As the definition of human is
As it may be imperfection
Created as rain falls
Only to be replaced by sun
As fate would have it
And so my anger flows slower
The pound of the thunder stole my force
In naught but words
One might read
And empathize
Although I do not ask it
As this is what I have brought
Down upon the back of myself
With all the things that I have done
And through this rambling anger
And broken chaos swirling leaves, water and dirt
I find my answer
And no longer feel the sick
Stone in the pit of my soul
That a flash and rumbling boom removed
Perhaps I am no longer as angry and sick
Or perhaps I just cannot feel it as strongly
For I fear that I am angry
With myself
For my own imperfection
As I have moved from the clouds
For that is who and what I am
As fate may have it
I have been centered
In the eye
However, I am human
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
the quality of quantity is unmerciful,
prodigious production of
wine improperly aged,
pours soiled drops
spilled without craft,
care or taste,
poured too quick to be
nothing more than
less than waste
born in reckless unrestrained
than every thought a golden gift,
bestowed upon the masses,
droppeth like the harshest hurricane rains,
gives no moisture sustenance to the world,
only floods and lays waste in dazed hazes
blesses none but the one who
cannot but cant,
measures his own demeanor in the mirror,
unsuspecting the mirror mirrors
the ides of ego,
seeds of self destruction
the throned monarch
who giveth
but does not take,
thinking the king he is,
his own best,
even better than his creator
and tho he carvo's his retno critiques
upon the brows of his subjects,
he cares not,
for it boring brings
more mastubatory page views
his addition of success,
his edition of self congratulatory
of writs and snits,
which adds up to a whole lot of
****
but you may put you pen down now,
for the world needs only
need one poet,
and it ain't me,
and it certainly ain't
you
.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Her feet float above the stage
as if carried by some unseen force.
From my view among the generally admitted
I can hardly make out the details of her face.
But those graceful movements are so alluring
each subtle step, precise, and all consuming.
She is the most vulnerable of all artists,
performing a dance that demands every emotion soak through her skin.
Each fluid movement pulls from the reservoir of her experience.
Trained from a young age to move agilely across the stage,
bearing the weight of the world upon her shoulders;
My Ballerina has more heart than anyone else on earth.
This reckless transparency, on the stage, is her glory.
Yet in the average corner of existence
this susceptibility to the sun's rays
would leave one suffering the harshest burns.
My Ballerina hurdles from one emotional extreme to another
with the cyclical tensing and relaxing of each muscle.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
A perfect Mommy, a perfect Daddy
A perfect daughter, a perfect life,
A perfect world to exist in, eclipsed by consummate sight.
She was my sun, a seraphic voice
bathing me in warm light,
And he was my moon, watchful eyes
protecting me from the darkness of night.
Two halves of my whole heart, their blood flowing through
my spirited veins.
Two halves of my whole mind, their thoughts crashing through
my synthetic brain.
Perfection is their sweetest lie, proclaimed by selfish mouths uttering
vain whispers after bedtime.
"I can't live without you. You can't leave me. I know we can survive this."
But survival is intangible against an affliction of the soul.
Imperfection is my harshest truth, comprehended by grieving eyes seeing raw memories before sleep.
"I can't live without you. You can't leave me. I know you can survive this."
But even a human's profound devotion can be turned away by their Creator,
just as a pleading child can be deserted by their mother and father.
And that is the largest betrayal of them all.
But to remain, to endure against hate's control, against fate, would be an immediate death.
To try and withstand their sickness and deterioration would be suicide.
And I have realized that I do not want to die.
Loss is my most unbearable pain, undeniably clouded by her beautiful smile and his comforting resemblance.
She used to sing her child to sleep, and now, she is singing to her one last time. At the door, he is watching and keeping them both safe.
They will both leave and never come back, but the memories will remain. The happiness will always be there for recollection.
But for now, it is time to sleep and forget.
She caresses her child's hair and kisses her forehead lovingly, getting up and walking to join him at the doorway.
The silhouettes of their mournful faces seem like a cryptic dream.
"Goodnight, Gigi. We love you very much."
"Mom? Dad?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I can live without you. You can leave me. I know I can survive this."
"We know."
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
People's lives are like far away places
and all we can see are their faces
and faint traces and flashes
of their soul when it seeps through the cracks
because it crashes at it's outmost edges.
It's as though we nearly think
that their soul is what they do, but no
and neither is it who they claim to be, or show,
it is where they have been, and where they shall go.
We gasp for air, we grasp it there
that others must breathe too.
Somehow storms still shock us with their might,
somehow even when i dont want to, breathing feels right
Somehow i know that i was breathed to life
somehow sparks that set afire,
though they consumed all i was,
became small sprouts of life to spire,
from the hardest dirt i'd ever seen,
when i was the worst man I had ever been
they stalked my essence in the ashes,
saw through all of the smudges, scratches,
held me up to light and saw,
an image etched, demanding awe,
there it was, but with blurred edges,
the image of My god implanted,
seed within my soul to bear,
the harshest winds, the hottest air.
So, as above, so below
even stars search for somewhere to go
In me, i see my friend,
In my friends I see my end,
in my end i see beginning, so long as the earth is spinning,
and when finally it stops,
when we've all forgotten clocks,
then in heaven as on earth,
shall we know that all has worth,
and remember then shall we,
all the roots, of life, the tree.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Inhibitions are burned by candlelight,
and resurrected by daybreak.
Let us map each other
like the mountains and valley's of these sheets,
so that our comfort has risen
before the morning phoenix
that so intends to banish our touch
from each other's bodies.
Capture those candles in your eyes,
and I'll spark our fire,
so that the harshest sunlight
could never force us to forget the moonlight
upon our skin,
and those phoenix ashes.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC