Storms are Gray, Yours are Blue
Those eyes which speak nothing
And say everything. The hazy
Blue abyss that could send
Thousands of ships to their
Grave. Each passing second
Feels like another wave
Crashing over me, pushing
Me out and drawing me back
In. The current rips and the
Skies roar. What I wouldn't
Give to calm the uneasiness
Of the raging storms locked
Away within those eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Parchment and Perfume
PoetryThis draft represents the inner workings of my mind, among other things. All of my poems and prose will be cataloged here and available for feedback. Pieces will constantly be added or removed to fit the guidelines for any poetry submissions I have...
