She has gotten freedom today.
Bright sea waves, butterflies in the garden,
my favorite lilies in the girl's delicate palms.
The light brown wings flap against the harsh winds;
Her words float in the air—
Fragile yet deep, hollow, and gory.
A youthful song plays,
the clouds move away,
the mighty sun shines.
The loudness bangs near the tormentor's ears—
He's wide awake,
flabbergasted.
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A/N: Let's free the clogged stars as well! So let's fill it with freedom by tapping it! :)
YOU ARE READING
the slow art of breathing bitter
Poetryslow dancing love and pain in the midnight chorus of liquor-washed autumn green ... || a constellation of destructive poetry ||
