Broken Morning

Sci fi/Fantasy image by

Irina Stefan

x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x ...estranged… I feel……deserted, empty, powerless… when the dream is gone, when hope is gone, what is there left for a human to do? to feel?...…staring through the cracks of the oh, so old and so thick walls that keep me away from my Fantaseea I let the thoughts run down upon me like the flood of a muddy water… I can remember stars… I can remember the light… and the mountains… and the rivers… and I can remember flying...…but nothing is clear to me now… nothing is any longer touchable… I rest - assured inside my castle made of broken dreams there’s neither hope, nor pain… and with the little time that I have left to wander the human world already wasted among uncertain thoughts, I wait… for the desire to fly to return within my veins…  x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x<>*<>x --- green definitely hates me… whatever green I try to do, I’m terribly bad at it … but I have to keep trying, because I like green, too, no matter how much this colour hates me J

Published More than a year ago

Category Historical

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