Willingly lost in the mists of the blue forests,
An archer without a bow,
A hunter and a knight
Without an armor,A lonely rider,
Taming the wild horses
Of the unending desert.
A writer is the echo
Of a dream within
Another dream, never finished...
A writer is a weary traveler,
Knocking at the door of eternity,
A child
And a servant of the Mightiest King.
A writer is a healer
As his own heart is breaking apart.
A writer is an answer
And a question mark.
A writer is the footstep
Hiking the trail of blossoming stars...
Copyright © 2013 Cristina Miller
No comments:
Post a Comment