Perhaps the flowers wither and the stars fall, and tides rise as fauna die. But no longer will we feel the clashing whims of our hearts, the timeless troubles thundering our souls.
Perhaps when we reach the heavens, half burnt, flames dancing across the sky, our worlds will lie still.
Emma Peng is a recent high school graduate who enjoys exploring new worlds through writing fantastical stories and her wildlife blog.
“There; true North.” He said the stars were compasses, but his Abyssus, a compass of the heart, never needed them. Together, they’d delivered fish, chased storms, saved lost souls.
He paused, exhaled, gaze lost at sea—like Abyssus.
On they sailed, passing unassumingly through a world too directionless to notice.
Emma Peng is a recent high school graduate who loves exploring worlds through writing her stories and wildlife blog.
I can’t
stop watching the ocean struggle around me
I watch others navigate their seas so easily
Glide, manipulate, master
They fly through blue like angels in air while my wings are tarred, collapsing under waves of despair.
They thrive
I barely survive.
No one notices as I’m washed away
Emma Peng wrote this story.