The skies are dark tonight.
A storm is brewing now.
Across the skies, streaks of light
Make one marvel at how
Such gloomy skies can be
So calm yet so scary.
The skies are a so near
Perfect charcoal grey, full
Of persona, of fear,
Of a depression, dull.
Only in charcoal skies
An old mystery lies.
Still, just above the trees,
Above the horizon,
One can see with great ease
A light, the setting sun.
Some do not see it so
Easily, a great woe.
YOU ARE READING
Creative Writing
Thơ caThis semester, I'm in a Creative Writing course, and I figured I'd publish some of the things I've written in it thus far. Some of them have very specific formats that are going to be tricky to write on a laptop, but I'm going to do my best.
