A Tempest of Color

A Poem by Botania

Around the world idyllic crashes.

Sullen dreams left in the ashes.

Reaching, striving, needing, thriving

What venture hath the gentleness

where all makes sense and life is bliss?

Need we not the stormy skies

to wash our tears and make us wise?

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Added on May 14, 2015
Last Updated on May 14, 2015

Attempting to reveal truth and beauty. more..

Ordinary Evening

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