In a weeping valley ringed by slumbering mountains
The most beautiful things
Are slivers of December sky
In between layers and layers of clouds of darkened silver,
Reflected by the sea-bottle blue of sea glass panes.
The tops of spires nestle in fine mist,
And lifegiving raindrops splatter across crumbling walls,
They stain everything green,
Giving this haven of patchwork concrete and metal it’s name.
Let my sorrows depart swiftly with these silent currents,
Let my wishes be fulfilled by this emerald city.
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
In a weeping valley ringed by slumbering mountains
The most beautiful things
Are slivers of December sky
In between layers and layers of clouds of darkened silver,
Reflected by the sea-bottle blue of sea glass panes.
The tops of spires nestle in fine mist,
And lifegiving raindrops splatter across crumbling walls,
They stain everything green,
Giving this haven of patchwork concrete and metal it’s name.
Let my sorrows depart swiftly with these silent currents,
Let my wishes be fulfilled by this emerald city.
What a lovely place