The time between the black and white
Where all was gray
Smoke was sight
And color was washed away
People flew from great height
Only to fall
What they thought was light
Was nothing at all.
YOU ARE READING
Soul
Poetry"Write something and it might be worthless, Paint something and it might be wordless, Nonsense verses Pointless curses, You'll see purpose start to surface, No one else is dealing with your demon, Meaning defeating them Might be the beginning...
Fallen Angel
The time between the black and white
Where all was gray
Smoke was sight
And color was washed away
People flew from great height
Only to fall
What they thought was light
Was nothing at all.
