we are specters haunting the forgotten fields of flowers. lilacs twirling as the night sets and we begin our dance of mists. stars glinting as we call out to the darkness, laughter in our voices. wind cool against the smoky texture of our skin. the roses grow along the edges, half in the darkness of the shadows, half in the light of the moon as its casts its pale light across the clearing.
we are specters haunting the forgotten field of flowers. forever dancing in the misty embers as our ghost world lights up in flames. because we do not care, we are specters in the dark, with memory as old as the gods. the rust of stardust has grown old, and the graveyard of planets that lay in the sky is a sight that we have grown bored of. the moon's light no longer fills us with desire to feel alive. and the smiles that we once bared into the night are empty husks of who we used to be.
– we are specters haunting the forgotten field of flowers, and we are ready to haunt the stars.
YOU ARE READING
SUN SETTING
Poetryit was at that time of ruin, that the stars rose from their graves. skytaints | all rights reserved ©