Writing

I hate that 
Icarus gets all the ink. 
His hubris penned down for eternity while 
His scorched flesh watched on. 

But never is it Daedalus. 
Daedalus, who waits. 
The waiting Daedalus. 

If we get scared, they have us in their pockets.

If we don't, all they have is blood.

And blood is not a weapon. 

     There is something about her, thought the universe as it sat perched upon the cliff of infinity.

 Calm is the wind,

 Never a dull blemish,

 Calloused into the land.

“Blunt the sword”,

 Cried the makers of peace,

Inhale,

Begin to sigh,

Climbing a ridge.

Exhale,

Falling back down,

Crunching all the way.

This is the blurb for the book I'm writing and it's a little terrifying... The first book is called A Final Light

                        ~ Adelyn Grace