It’s archaic by my poemattic

What our souls are made of

:☾ a rustic array of verses that whisper themselves through the centuries,and into the shallow depths of my heart. i will write until the sun meets the moon, i will write until the poet dies too soon.16☾︎ the swords i wield get stronger with every scar on my skin.beware, i may very well win.8-m.h.
𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 :☾︎ to those people who in the midst of laughter and familiar faces,feel secluded and desolated.this one is for all of us.8𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂 :

scathing Saturn rings
or so Celestial says
treacherous with thought          layla   
deadlier dreams
handsome boys 
darling   
moonrise       
tripwire trail of tragic grief        blue mountains   
white daisies 
dear ma   
the last days   
the wind falls on summer's …
a candlelight vigilant
Tragedies and Escapades
Ocean skips a heart beat
'tis the frost
Message in a bottle
Jungle cries
before I know it
Sky as mines
The thirteenth day of October
A late sunday

_______

Published by Bm

I'm a student. Singing and sketching is my hobby. Your life does not get better by chance. It gets better by a change Supporting female for every injustice

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: