She sat across the scenery of the golden sunset.
Her hair in blonde reflecting the tangerine light of the day with its farewell. With her was her drafts of poetry, telling about fairies and dragons and castles with no kings and queens. With her was her pens in half empty and half full, carefully kept as her weapon in a battle that knows no words to be spoken. With her was her blank sheets of papers that are willing to cuddle the ink she’ll spill, the stains of her feelings, ready to catch even the drops of her tears and who’ll never get mad when crumpled or thrown. With her was her heart that is so generous to be placed on every piece that she’ll write, in every line that speaks about a life once lived, verses about people and her journey of places with her footprints.
Till the dark hours came and she still sat there.
She sat across the panorama of silver shimmering stars.
You see? She’ll never sit there alone as she was.
Entry for: Paper
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