The labyrinth of past souls are awakened
if only they could see the illusion from the fog
They writhe with ecstasy and vines dripping with sweet rain
They know only euphoria that is welcomed with open arms
And into the passing of grey comes the opening of the skies
The first drop of light that captures all that is real
and laughter that is left behind
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Many pieces torn into shreds, year by year. Fragile bits cracking gently but never mending. To the core that binded never was. We traveled... -
Forgive me for being on this fast track, This train keeps passing the stations I’m suppose to be getting off. A night here in paradise h...
-
I don’t own a sewing kit, no one has ever asked me to sew a button or hem a skirt. I never mended the holes in my socks when I was older. My...
No comments:
Post a Comment