Ambient light was like a knife.
Dark blue mistaken for black
was carved a shade lighter.
Each star was scraped out
and fell in the form
of a shooting star.
Dirt craters became their home.
The moon was alone.
Some nights when less humans
then usual walked the pavement
and the absence of stars could be felt.
The moon grew and took
over the sky hoping
stars from dirt craters would
find their way back home.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoésieThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
