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
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
Forgiveness
Life sprouts from the cold, damp earth and
past hurts fade as the sun’s light skulks into morning…
