One voice whispers.
Gathers, threading a symphony on the wind.
They blanket our world in a mist of magic.
The howling peaks.
And then, as stars in a morning sky, each one wavers–
Blinks out.
Leaves the world waiting, wanting, in silence.
The Dead of Night
More by Amalie@kua
-
In what world would I ever know my Grandmother
How can it be that I cannot exist without and with her
Sometimes I like to imagine we have the same eyes, brown with glints of green and yellow, like a sprouting garden in spring.
-
Why I Miss Summer
Silence spreads.
It blankets churning mouths like grazing cows come frost.
Never has the silence echoed so.
-
Perfection
Can it be nothing more than new life?
Bounding through marshes
And clover
And buttercup
And moss
And underneath that moss
Death
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.