The burning boil of the morning horizon,
tinged orange with an ethereal glow.
Great strokes of gold slash across
an endless mirage of blue.
Tiny dots of mammals frolic through the skies,
The wind a shapeless master.
Pushing up, then down,
forwards, backwards.
Yet still the great orb rises.
Stringless and with an angelic grace
Our celestial mistress illuminates the majesty.
She watches over us, the faceless fire
seeing everything with her incandescent glare.
But you mustn’t look back,
no you must not,
not at the great crimson nucleus.
Lest your eyes burn with her.
About the Creator
Rose May
Just wanted to share some words with you.
Please please leave feedback if you want to! I would really appreciate anything, thank you for reading :)
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Comments (1)
"Stringless and with an angelic grace" is such a great line!