Skyfire on vanilla and cinnamon.
Moonglow in silver on India ink specked with diamonds.
Greylings of smoke suffocate the horizon in washed out laundry.
Cloudfury spans the midnight in violent lilacs.
Screaming of the atmosphere as she is struck in the foul hexes of the galaxies.
Look up to the sky and you will fulfil understandment at long last.
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Abyss
Poetry"When all is lost, my words are the only thing I will have left."
