Paint stroke
More by Amalie@kua
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Do You Hear the Raven Call?
A wingspan of ash, she scours the sky for signs of a way forward.
Beneath, the writhing landscape of a future so foreign we cannot yet comprehend which color she will be.
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The Eclipse
Melts the sun
With her ferocity– stripped away,
Turned into fragility,We gasp as moon swallows sun.
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