Bipolar
๐ฆ
Daylight,
Whispers of butterfly wings --
Poetically poignant --
Fragile;
And free --
A living ode,
To the majestic messiah of tattoos and Haikus,
A --
Ballad of liberation and
Transformation.
Delicate;
Newly
Born --
A metamorphosis of possibility.
Waiting to fly -
By night.
A moth,
Seduced by firelight.
I will burn hope.
Into an urn of,
Blackened ash.
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The Solstice in Bad Gumption
โHow do we go about it?โ The group of three men and one boy shifted from foot to foot around a bonfire spluttering sparks in the bone chilling drizzle, a few hefty stones sitting amid the flames. They were thinking about all the time it took to get it going in this weather. Someone sniffed, someone coughed. They all felt cold and uneasy standing at the edge of the fields sprawling in front of them in the dusk, with their backs to the dripping birches surrounding the cemetery.
By Katarzyna Popiel2 days ago in Fiction
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