A spark in the dark,
Our souls entwined.
The natural course of hearts beating as one,
An unspoken force,
Whispers of our dreams on starlight nights.
Yet time grew us old,
So new cards unfolded in front of us,
Our love so bright,
Turned into grey.
About the Creator
Alyce Willow
Hello, I am a young journalist and poet. I have dedicated the last few years to honing my writing skills and have found joy in using words to express my thoughts and emotions. Thank you for taking the time to read about my hyperfixations.
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Confessions of an Empath
The birds are chirping, and the sun is shining in a cloudless July sky. The vibrancy promises a beautiful day, but the cooing of the Mourning Dove perched on the powerlines seems to be more fitting than the lively songs of the robin flitting through the trees. The melancholic calls of the dove cloak the world in a sadness that hangs like tattered drapes.
By Alyssa Nicolea day ago in Confessions
Comments (5)
Nice one.
Your poem captures the complexities of love's journey, acknowledging both its beauty and the inevitable changes that come along, thank you very much for sharing, love your works, hope to read more, subscribed.
oh, it's sad at the end! unless grey is settled in.
Beautiful, and so relatable. 💕
This is really good, well done 👍.