Just a broken little poem. Instinct.

the-bold-mom-mar-watercolor-drawing-doll-kneeling

When your nightmares

get torn up

locked in the claws of a shadow.

You must choose, fear or ruin.

 

All the peace you spill,

will only find warmth in the darkest hollow,

where your panic fades.

Where you can set free the beast

burning in every heartbeat.

And now, there’s no way out.

 

← Previous post

Next post →

2 Comments

  1. Love this and the sketch

Leave a Reply

Close
%d bloggers like this: