Sunday, April 05, 2015



Even silence hardly breathes.
Clouds lower their hulks
for angels to sing her grace.

Windows pray for gentleness
from light; crossing white sheets
light is the sadness.

P.S.: The Muse found me. Or I found her. Whichever.

#‎Prompt1‬: Write a poem depicting something ugly as beautiful, or something beautiful as ugly.
‪#‎Prompt2‬: Write a poem on the theme of resurrection.

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