The gate of psychological darkness
Opened yesterday, creaking on its hinges.
I stood there – a poor sick dog in the gutter
And the invisible token of my gifts – I scattered
Gifts of language, of music and vision
As real as the pain of summer flowers
Deactivated by the eyes of the dead –
They were raging within their old wooden crates
Books, Bears and Niceness
♠️Rip It Up & Start Again♥️
Unleashing the beauty of creativity
Lil Brazilian Traveler
the literary asylum
Where the heart, mind, and pen connect
Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests
not even trying to make sense of it
Edebiyat
Write what you feel, coz it doesn't make you fear
A poetry site. (If you like this post please click, "Follow," on the right menu.)
thinking through music
Animal conservation should be a global religion.
Sharing words of Support, Motivation and Compassion
