Lizarett Flavour

Lizarett's Home

The Story Speaks In You

The Writer's Curse
A morning brew of early rays,
A sadness for a dream that fades,
A starless night of clouds' hates, -
A coin for a gaze been chased.

All murmours flawed, all winters tight
On roses lost for you to find.
A lot of "knows" from scratch to write, -
Forgiving walks in hand with kind.

A pure intention of the clock
In rapid rise of dawn and knock.
On brighter side, misspelling fog
Awaiting curse of cleansing waltz.

February 2023
Made on