When he was here, it was...
Like a snowflake falling on a fox’s nose for the first time,
Like the low rumble in the chest of wolves when they cuddle,
Like the catchy tune of a nursery rhyme,
Like the reflection of a full moon in a big puddle,
Like the intricate design of vines when they intertwine,
Like the first notes of a violin playing so subtle.
When he was gone, it was...
Like the whimpers of a lost pup,
Like the fading of precious memories,
Like holding back the lump in your throat without luck,
Like staring up at a black mass of empty space,
Like a ghastly wind stripping the trees,
Like the teardrops running down a violinist’s face.
About the Creator
Alexa Mendoza
I don't like the world we live in so I try to live out my life through my dreams and thoughts. I love writing, I use it as an escape from reality and express what I fee.
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Someday, Not Today
There is nothing left. We have lost and our existence will be mourned by those who have come to love us. The rain comes down to wash away the fires, and to let us see clearly, that we no longer have a place in this small world we all desire to possess.
By Alexa Mendoza6 years ago in Humans
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