A/N And there we go. Another midnight thought.
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Who would scintillate,
a despondent soul so ?
Up and down,
and then high and low ?
Who would aquiesce
such indelible bliss,
however swift
and fleeting it is ?
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Poesía#14 on 8 March 2017 Poetry, Prose. Words bled from the very soul. Musings of an occasional poetess. 'Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words. It is an abstract art, and I am, but a mere artist ' - Edgar Allan Poe ©wordalmaniac 2016
