the good left undone II

09.26a.m 



Inside my hands these petals browned,
Dried up, fallen to the ground
But it was already too late now.
I pushed my fingers through the earth,
Returned this flower to the dirt,
So it could live. 
I walked away now.

But I know...
Not a day goes by that I don't feel this burn.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm







mood ::
music ::


 ~lysergdiethel®~