There are graying clouds that try to shroud
the hope of a shining day;
to hide its splendor from the world,
to cast it to misery.
We can't always be that golden star
the brightest sun in the sky,
storms will be there to put out
our burning dream;
but we shall never let it die.
For even through the worst that
life can rain on us, our dreams
know no surrendering goodbyes.
Because even in the darkest nights
it's destiny that
the yellow sun will always rise.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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wow . . . stunning . . . keep writing!
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the yellow sun will always rise.
Riche this is just so damn beautiful, got no words
to say...




