Thursday, November 17th

Dear diary,

Do I deserve this?

An icy carpet of broken crystals of hope,
An ocean with faith frozen like a lake,
Chilly wind that freezes forgotten fears,
Echoes those past wounds in silence.
Screams and sobs tears the heart,
A sky so dead, dull in dark,
Covered these in foggy blanket around.
A kingdom full of nights and blues,
Will ever those thorns turns to bloom?
Will there be a dawn to break this dusk?
A warm beam bright melts all my fright.

prachi