Dec 4, 2018
1 min read
Grief
The sky bleeds.
Fiery red.
The moon wails.
The song of sorrow.
The absence of tomorrow.
Buried bodies.
Tainted flowers.
Rocks in smithereens.
Weeping mothers.
Enraged fathers.
The world,
in tattered pieces.
Writer by heart. Teacher (English, Yoga, Pilates) by trade. Avid reader. World traveller. Model. You can reach me at agneslouis3108@gmail.com.
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