Her delicate frame danced in the wind,
her gossamer wings shimmering.
Her deep brown eyes were warm and sweet,
her lips a deep rose red.
But as I watch, the scene changes,
the faery is falling,
slowly,
down,
down,
down.
She hits the ground with a soft thud,
and my heart stops.
Her sweet face,
her heavenly presence,
gone.
In her place, a deep dark cloud of smoke.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryA collection of poems I've had in my head. Some have been written with prompts from @MusicalMagical and myself!
