MistA Poem by The Poet of Black Wings ill admit, this isnt my best work. The rain, she washes away the red. the red of yesterday. the red flows off us, off the streets. it flows into the deep. it flows beyond us. it cascades down from the sky, to the towers, and beyond us. the rain, cleans all until we are gray, until the streets are colorless.
As the sun sets, she parts, until she is only a golden mist in the sky. © 2012 The Poet of Black Wings |
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3 Reviews  Last Updated on November 16, 2012 Author
The Poet of Black WingsAbouti hope my poems, among other writings, will speak for me. Edit - Full disclosure, if you ask me to read something, I will, and I'll be brutally honest about what I think about it. So, be ready for .. more..Writing
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