No more!
Let us speak no more of loss
Of pain and heartache
Of trembling lips and blurred vision
It is a great travesty to the one you've lost
A travesty!
To shroud their brilliance in the dark
So sing!
Sing choruses laughter
Proses of adventures
And stanzas of love
Sing tales of their warmth and brightness
To stave off the cold and dark
Speak more of the journey
And not of the end
About the Creator
Malik Mor
Creator of strange and beautiful worlds, poet, and blogger from Brooklyn, NY. Addicted to tea.
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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