I crack , I crumble , glass being the closest thing to myself now .
A glass sword impales me , the azur handle twirling with dancing crimson along its cursed edge , absorbing my spirit.
I am then left, an empty husk ,
a glitching program with no understanding
of the monotone world ,
a superficial and crumbling place .
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Author:
Halcyon (
Offline) - Published: January 4th, 2019 20:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments1
Two amazing poems!
I am enjoying your prose 🌈
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