moonwalking into spring
i slip
back into winter’s cruel grasp.
cold solitude leaves me rooted
in a rootlessness that knows no end, and
tethered to a yearning
that has no name.
Soul Made
moonwalking into spring
i slip
back into winter’s cruel grasp.
cold solitude leaves me rooted
in a rootlessness that knows no end, and
tethered to a yearning
that has no name.
theDeprevation 