I listen to sad songs
in a passing rain not
expected it was the
lessons it has taught.
Born in a secret lit in
the corners of a prism
found in memory tune
I use to heal a schism.
Calamity wrought it
tightens passages of
lungs I try speak with
gentle whisps of love.
Crying storms angels
have fallen sometimes.
They winged sing aloft
music wiping our eyes.
In battle we’re precious;
we scavenge a world left
in hands of the damned
that try strangle to death.
I open my eyes for tears,
they are real so I feel it.
I feel I know sorrow to
relish what love does gift.
Beautiful…
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Thank you.
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