You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
That day in Moscow, it will all come true, when, for the last time, I take my leave, And hasten to the heights that I have longed for, Leaving my shadow still to be with you.
Welcome to The grey clover. My name is Mayowa. I'm a physiotherapy student. I am also a lover of Literature, Arts, Science and technology. I have several interests which includes writing poetry, photography, fashion designing and there are still much more things I hope to learn. Thanks for stopping by!
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The grey clover 