your earth has a dirt floor covered in thin blades of grass that sway in the wind. sway with the trees that grow from the ground up touching the ceiling stretched with blue skies. occasionally, clouds litter those skies, offering shade to those in the light, offering water to all that is dry. sometimes light strikes from those clouds resembling the sun. that big ball of fire hanging above your earth that sometimes falls only to let it's lover rise. your earth is beautiful, but so is mine.
my earth has dirt sprinkled on it's skin, engraved to it's scars from experience. grass grows high in single blades upon it's head that shine in the light. that shine with the trees branching off the torso, taken into shape of limbs and fingers. trees that dream to touch the sky so many miles up. my earth has skies too, compacted into little orbs whose home is a skull. they sparkle in shades of umber and auburn like puddles reflecting the light of day. behind the skies are clouds that depict certain moods. they block out light and fill its head with darkness, they provide water that runs through its head and out its eyes. however, no matter how dark, my earth has light. a soul of fire, eternally ignited. my earth is beautiful, my earth is kind, my earth shall not be ruined by the likes of mankind.
my earth
09.14.19
YOU ARE READING
ken
PuisiI completed I ken /k e n/ n. 1. one's range of knowledge or sight. ❝you're a ghost boy completely translucent your bones, your flesh they've all completely faded into the death of a story a tragic story titled love ❞ ➸ a collection of handwritt...
