My words were colours
Flowing through the quill, perhaps
a drop of crimson
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Author:
Kaz (
Offline) - Published: July 30th, 2026 02:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Fränz Müller, Iam1ItchyLizzard
Offline)
Comments2
A beautifully restrained piece that invites multiple interpretations.
Beautiful and one must ask if the crimson is one's blood, anger and wrath or courage.
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