Words run through the writer's soul. Words are his blood. Any time he shares his words, he bleeds.
I bleed too.
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Wednesday, 16 October 2013
Gateways and Pearls
She soars on the wings of a song A song of love, a song of truth A song touching the soul A song extracting every bit of pain From an afflicted heart
He rides on the crest of a lingering wind A wind devoid of worries, a wind of certainty A wind instilling within his chest, hope A wind blowing away the clouds of despair From a dejected self
Together, they glide effortlessly Into a promise Etched into the eyes of none But the two As one
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