Pain creates the darkness of the night
Washed away by the morning dew;
Love formed with the tick of a clock
By the next breath was never true.
Autumn leaves and cherry trees,
Their moments turn to decades.
Insincerity breathes through me
As any hint of tenderness fades.
The wind whistles its assurance,
Ethereal, temporary, captivating,
And it expects of me no endurance;
I know it should be liberating.
Truth’s light slips from my fingers to the ocean,
Diluted by each new inclusion.
I close my eyes, tired of searching,
Torn apart in a maze of substitutions.
Even nostalgia manages to be new;
Pain loses its sting as happiness dims.
Trust sees right through,
Until only indifference sings.
Sarah Hughes has an addiction to writing, which lead her to read English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Warwick. This addiction often manifests itself as illegible scribblings from ideas late at night, which would be inconvenient if she wasn’t exceptional at sleeping and deciphering her own handwriting.
She thrives on difficult Christian questions and loves discussing her Lord with anyone who will listen, from teachers to best friends to classmates. But what she loves most is sharing the love that sustains and saves her, in the imperfect way she manages.
Sarah also has a flair for the dramatic and enjoys exploring character motivations both on the page and off. When not reading, she can be found singing along to her favorite music, playing her guitar, or, most likely, writing. Her favorite days are uninterrupted writing days, the mystical mornings when stories are created.