radiant bloody torches
burn the void
breath storm all miracles
can beauty once exalted
wane itself of comfort
soul caricature touching the formula sprayed in front you

YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoetrySad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
Burn The Void
radiant bloody torches
burn the void
breath storm all miracles
can beauty once exalted
wane itself of comfort
soul caricature touching the formula sprayed in front you