KhristieB
a year ago1,000+ Views
Seven Years
The days, in which you left, never get brighter. The sun still hangs above, but it's brilliance doesn't radiate as it used to before. I sit all day under the broken sun, watching with hope in the eyes that you will soon come back. The nights, in which you haven't returned, gets darker. The moon lays crooked in the sky, but it's glimmer has dwindled. I lay awake under the crooked moon, watching, still, with hope in the eyes that you will soon come back. After all, you had promised you would seven years back.... ~KB
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