My eyes look up to the sky
To see
The clouds twirling with the wind.
A new shade of grey is displayed every time
Ribbons of thunderous clouds roll by
Two dragon flies collide
On this August night
They drunkenly hover near one another
I hear their tiny giggles
Then like a bolt of lightning, they fly away to hide
What appeared to be a dove in the air
Has transformed into a vulture
More ghastly than his mangy feathers
Is his cold stare
He has landed on the tallest grave,
He patrols the rolling hills
Made of endless tomb stones
Each one beholding a lost loved ones name
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 12:50 AM UTC
My eyes look up to the sky
To see
The clouds twirling with the wind.
A new shade of grey is displayed every time
Ribbons of thunderous clouds roll by
Two dragon flies collide
On this August night
They drunkenly hover near one another
I hear their tiny giggles
Then like a bolt of lightning, they fly away to hide
What appeared to be a dove in the air
Has transformed into a vulture
More ghastly than his mangy feathers
Is his cold stare
He has landed on the tallest grave,
He patrols the rolling hills
Made of endless tomb stones
Each one beholding a lost loved ones name
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