Her words were the colours
On her blank canvas
On her soul that existed
In the void of nothingness
She was the moon
Her true colours shone
Only at the darkest hours
When the light would fade
And the shadows in the corners
Of her heart would come out to play
Her words were the moonlight
Bathing the earth in warmth
Showing an ethereal light
That resided in the dark
Only to bleed away
Draining into the dawn
Fading into nonexistence
Into silence
Into the light
YOU ARE READING
Ballads of a Cloud Walker
Puisinefilibata (n) lit. "cloud-walker"; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams highest ranking: 692 in Poetry
