The parlor was colbalt
it smelled of honey,
tasted of summer,
and
the lilies of
spring.
The bible on the table
was scattered in holy grain.
A bottle of honey was
laid beside it
golden and pure.
Milk was white as linen
the table's lace
was complicated,
as the day comes...
It's all a lie.
An illusion of an holy
Mantra.
People have twisted it
Into something bad
Something dividing my
People.
//b.s.
YOU ARE READING
spilled ink✔
SpiritualA bind-up of 13 teenagery poems by WingWriter. "The stars completed the night. Without them, it was a dull blue with nothing to embellish them.♡" #796 in Spiritual (7.13.17) #759 in Spiritual (7.19.17) #640 in Spiritual (7.21.17) #449 in Spiritual (...
