Spring
Sweet summer child,
You know not of the cold
That hits you hard.
It aches your soul
and wounds your heart.
Scars are left behind
To haunt you for
Days. Years and centuries.
But Spring;
Comes forth.
Heals the open wounds,
Washes the worries
In the drizzling rain of
the pleasant season.
With the Pleasant breeze
That sweeps away;
the broken dreams.
The soothing sunshine
gives hope.
Birds sing melodies
Of your strength and courage.
So wait for spring,
Which is a journey of;
Friendship and love,
Hope and faith.
Awakens your soul,
So the heart will carry
No pain.
Wait summer child,
For the blooming flowers,
That will spread colors
In the dark Days.
Copyright © Zarbakhta Khan | Year Posted 2017
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