furi.blog

I have no poetry in me; 
in me, there are valleys 
full of dark memories; 
there are rivers foaming against the rocks, 
full of incomprehensible thoughts and anxieties. 

in me, there are mountains, 
made of challenges I am yet to overcome; 
struggles with my sense of self-worth, 
fear of the unknown, 
a cruel view of my own self. 

there are dark clouds made of past mistakes, 
threatening and ominous, 
obscuring a blue sky full of hope, 
nevertheless, 
the sun shines through, 
and love endures.