The light was pouring past the windows in bright glowing drops against the warm earthy tones of the darkened night streets, scaring away the shadows like a person fleeing from a cop car. The sun was dying, cracked down the center by the agony of keeping billions of people alive for far too long. It was breaking like an egg in slow motion, the yolk slowing sliding apart, bit by bit, like a distorted form of rain. Today's sunfall was beautiful, mixing with the rain and becoming diluted, striking the ground with a bright intensity before dying out into the dark road. The end was near.
It would be beautiful. I wasn't scared. I waited with a baited breath by the large glass windows that seemed to ripple like water for the sun to come apart in the sky's loving arms. For it to burst into billions of miniature coruscating drops and shower the sky with its exquisite fiery death, letting fire bloom across the earth like ink bleeding from the tip of a feather quill. I waited for the drops of sun to take me away.
AN-So we are nearing the end of this book, we've got like one more chapter(I think) and I honestly can't believe I've consistently written for this long. I'll go off into a mushy rant on the last chapter to spare you guys from the crying for now, but I will say that I might write drops of sun, this little piece above into an actual story, so be prepared for that. If you have been reading this, thank you for reading a little bit of my soul, and being so kind! Much love
-amethyst
YOU ARE READING
Oleander-COMPLETED
PoesíaALL RIGHTS RESERVED Her words were like oleander flowers, so delicate, like a gossamer spider string, but poisonous, like her scarred, despondent heart. *in other words, my crap poetry that is still really important to me*
