Our sameness make us more congenial to this story, but it is in contradiction that we find our truest selves.
Category: Poetry
Sometimes I wax, poetic
Home
I seek the sun's rays And morning's blush A darkened Sunrise As time stills We greet in silence
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Death
In the dark recess of the mind, there is hope.
Sadness shall pass like the morning's sun. Here clumps of rose petals will fall
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Forgiveness
Life sprouts from the cold, damp earth and
past hurts fade as the sun’s light skulks into morning...
