The grains make sand
Water makes an ocean
The shape adorns a form.
Hands ache fingers
Roots wish for light
Flames pray to be still
Vines caress summer, survive.
And darkness has no beginning
For it has no end.
But the shadow is a circle,
It only grows bigger.
And all that is left,
A silhouette
As the waves approach.
1 comment:
Thanks Deekshita! :D
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