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Jun 2020
In the ruins of previous lives, ghosts meandered. (soft cheer, and laughter.)

With a skylight turned inside out, cracks, fenestrating form. (soft sobbing, and fear.)

On the desk lay stained glass, and the ashes of yesterday. (softer times, and love.)

Just in time, for the air sirens.

Illustrations on the glass, now of resignation.

Musty tomes fluttered, and in the unnatural torrent of gales,

Angels of metal sent love letters, to wash it all away with indifferent flames.

What is it good for?

Absolutely nothing.

23rd of February, 2018.
Written by
Batchelor  27/M/Singapore
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