Steam rises from the opaque abyss, concealing flesh beneath the surface.
I float in silent solitude, for once not one poem is heard, but rather lived.
A flickering candle casts dancing shadows sweating with condensation.
The last sip of wine gives life to my lips, but a bitterness that grows deeper.
Jasmine petals drift through the air carried in the Wisper of smoke.
About the Creator
Hollow Paradice
Hollow be thy name thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in Paradice.
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More stories from Hollow Paradice and writers in Poets and other communities.
Choosing Yourself Over the Chase
Don't waste time waiting for someone to grow up. When someone requires you to exhaust yourself explaining how to love them—without them proactively seeking to understand or reflect—the likely outcome is mutual harm.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing3 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
an amazing writer you are