4d
A withered soul at the shore of dreams,
It pondered the waves as they gleamed—
Arrays of light, oh, what heaven beams,
Caused by clouds so white they seem
Formed from pearls or angel’s wings.
It prayed for this day to be its last,
For no day shall be worthy as this day will.
It pondered the waves as they gleamed—
Arrays of light, oh, what heaven beams,
Caused by clouds so white they seem
Formed from pearls or angel’s wings.
It prayed for this day to be its last,
For no day shall be worthy as this day will.
A weary spirit lingers where light and shadow meet, yearning for release beneath celestial whispers.
(28/M)
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