There she is.
Walking along the ancient vintage road.
Making it to the dreamland appears to be difficult.
The journey appears to be long.
Thorns and small stones awaited.
The road starts to be narrow.
Drought and desert wind greeted her.
Thirst becomes her meal.
Her strength faded, and her body shrank.
There's a small puddle of dirty water.
However, she is too proud to drink.
The inner ego follows her closely.
She is the woman of pride.
About the Creator
Gloria Penelope
Every creative piece is just me, telling a story. Enjoy!
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Comments (2)
I'd think twice too to drink dirty water hehehe. Loved your poem!
Sounds like she was so prideful, she died on that road!