Midnight hands

Could’ve been a hole in the sun

Lost in the thunder’s whisper…

Following obscenities…one by one…

Till the wind in my lungs will disfigure

 

By the river I’ll walk on air

Till you count your dead  -

My insolent, internecine glare

Beautiful. Raven haired.

 

Sighs playing piano… unconcerned.

And if tomorrow earth drowns in fire

Those sighs will still play, unreserved.

Who’ll reconstruct this empire…

 

When the words are no more?

Reviews

[armin]

loved it Ana,
i think you are a great writer.

Keep up that awesome work.

armin. ...

[Ana B.]

Thank you dear Armin:)