The ink spilled across the page,
Her soul flowed out into the verses.
She was the inspiration in every line,
An apparition of his deepest thoughts.
Her laughter echoed in the margins,
But she never read the words.
She crafted worlds with her pen,
Every stroke a testament to love.
She lived beyond the stories,
Unaware that she was his every poem.
In his ink, she was immortal,
Yet she lived a life untouched by prose.
About the Creator
Ghost
A young person overflowing with imagination and compassion seeks to create a positive impact on the world by expressing their creativity through meaningful actions.
Autonomy Is The Real Privilege
Good morning, freedom-seekers! Today we’re gonna be looking at autonomy. A strange word, I know; one many would probably look at blankly and run away from on sight. We’re gonna figure out what it actually means, consider how it’s achieved, and decipher just how deeply most of us are tangled up in dependence without realising it.
By That ‘Freedom’ Guyabout 5 hours ago in Humans
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