Honest shapes
are meant to bleed,
and this one
is to grieve:
Some things
are never meant
to save.
Buried
in their past,
caged without a key.
A dying dance
with light—
A spell to burn,
in the ashes—
sanctuary.
Honest shapes
are meant to bleed,
and this one
is to grieve:
Some things
are never meant
to save.
Buried
in their past,
caged without a key.
A dying dance
with light—
A spell to burn,
in the ashes—
sanctuary.
Leave a comment. Absurdity welcomed.