Photo by Gabriel Lenca on Unsplash
With wings once made of morning dew
Every feather burnt in ink trails
When the soul cries where the flesh fails
Bones breaking, just one or two
O fall may you leave me wearing sins
Before they wrote about falling
Before i felt gravity pulling
Toward your name, rope kiss on my skins
No castaway is a stone
But to build bridges to home
No scream is vile no smile is vain
Your claws in mine for love to reign
About the Creator
Vili
Bitter patter
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.