The world ended, I was left alone, but you called me. When I heard your voice through the mist. I knew, there was still hope. So I leave this broken world behind…Home is just a word.
Published by Wandering Poem
I write Poetry and fiction as a hobby, I've written a full book but never managed to get it published. My poems tend to be thoughtful and philosophical with a touch of spirituality. My fiction is mostly sci-fi and fantasy but usually with twists and interesting ideas thrown in there. I have been told I don't have a solid grasp of genre, which is fair since the whole concept doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me anyways, I write what I want, and nothing else. View all posts by Wandering Poem