Aug 15, 2020

Concelaed

The sea opened its mouth
and swallowed the butterflies of hope.
It was a day like many others,
with no Sun to whisper to
and no stars to take into your arms.
In the simmering of absolute light,
there was but amplified darkness.
Their blood turned to snow,
and the Eyes cried the nectar of thorns.
When the Being left, nothing changed.
When the Being left, everything sang.

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