Through grey mist, heavy rain
Captures a ringing, softened glow,
Peering out of them, another tragedy -
As if we couldn't hear it.
Their drifted joy,
Through the fog, on paths;
Several fires, winding, crumbling,
Wooden shapes to mask their nature.
Once, maybe, they were,
Here, there, around - laughing,
Singing, in spite, but now;
White majesty, no sound.
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Author:
Nicholas Browning (
Offline) - Published: May 2nd, 2022 04:19
- Comment from author about the poem: This one's up to interpretation my friends. I hope you enjoyed the read!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments3
An interesting writing .. it definitely made me think 🙂 an Angel ? A lost hurting soul ? A good writing ))
I can't say O. O Hahaha, thank you - I wanna say Rose, cause that's what I'm used to, but I think I'll go with Bell. Has a nice ring to it.
Very ghostly! I like it.
Thank you much once more my friend!
Good write N.
The fairest of all hamsters, I thank you!
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