The feathered boy said:
“The day is done
The war is gone”
The feathered boy said
“Amongst the dread
Amongst bloody napes
And the lowered heads
Our feathers abound
That will become capes
That fall from clouds
Are white stairs winding
Past a golden drape
For war torn men
And men unbecoming
And daring souls so soothe
Your hearts in red heaven”
About the Creator
Octovo Libra
Instagram: @libracymbaspoems
Twitter : @libracymbalspoems
And my poetry Hell Is Like A Dog Kennel and other poems
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Dead and Wearing Green
She was wearing that green dress when I first saw her, five years ago to the day. Flowing meadow fabric draped over long legs, thick auburn hair flowing down her back. That smile. Of course, she is still beautiful now. But now she is no longer alive.
By Karen Cave7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
It's a gorgeous piece! ❤