The moon shines
On a ghostly figure
Her silhouette finds
Every single sliver
What you saw were lines
That made her shiver
The soul that the vines
Enclasped and made wither
Go at the right times
You'll gladly destroy her
~N
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Waves
PoetryThese waves can only be painted with the brush of words, the people only being washed away in this unfathomable sea. ~N [#5 in Poetry on 8/2/18]
