Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The colors of the sun run, like damaged tapestries. Painting the sky surrealistic and I wonder what it means to me. Light reflected from waters surface glitters for a moment then refracts, A million different directions leaving more questions than it subtracts. How many lives have sparked and died, within the never ending depths? The waves receive the query and to the bottom it gets swept.
0
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Sunset (v2)
The colors of the sun run, like damaged tapestries. Painting the sky surrealistic and I wonder what it means to me. Light reflected from waters surface glitters for a moment then refracts, A million different directions leaving more questions than it subtracts. How many lives have sparked and died, within the never ending depths? The waves receive the query and to the bottom it gets swept.
Guess I've been watching a lot of them lately.
jacob-christopher
Written by
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem