Quietly walking,
Through forests and wild meadows,
Nature holds my hand.
Waves washed my worries,
Surf ebbing tributaries,
Stirring tears to pools.
Soaring in the sky,
Wind takes my heart to new heights,
Feet wings on this Earth.
Dynamite recharged,
Exploding doubts to ashes,
Igniting my life.
About the Creator
Adan Javed
A 19-y/o student of Visual Communication & Design, with a passion for art, writing, and an obsession with the sky.
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Shards
"The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own." I saw the scrap of paper at the top of the desk drawer. I squinted at the crabbed writing, so like mine, but definitely not my hand. My aunt and I were very similar in a lot of ways, and our lefty scrawls were near the top of the list. I sighed as I put it in the box with all the other papers. This box would go in the van with the others, to go through when the loss wasn't so raw.
By Meredith Harmona day ago in Fiction
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