I always thought that home was a place, A place with four walls and a pointed roof, With rooms and furniture, A battlefield or a meadow;
By Imogen Ray2 years ago in Poets
I still remember those autumn nights, The ones where our laughs would light up the sky, Where the stars would glow just for us.
When you choose to walk the path of blackness, The one filled with cries and tears, The one shrouded in gloom, As you walk the narrow path of loneliness and fear,