All the leaves are brown now, even though I don’t wish them
to be, needing to cling to something green that has ceased to exist, this wasteland
that lies between what once was and what may swoon be again, a time when it
was, a time when it is easy to give up, to surrender to the dark days and not
believe the days will bright and the world will return to greet – this lack of
faith, this lost soul, this in-between time when all seems beyond hope and yet,
I cling to it, to the hope of green if not the green that was, this belief it
will come again, as it always has in the past and this is what I live for.
No comments:
Post a Comment