AS ONE.


BLOOD TRACKS

Think of faded traces of blood in the woods
turned into dust
in a last kiss of grey

Two footprints under the turf
Two dead at this place again

Our eyes are still here,
crowned over perfection,
for we kissed the lack of death
and put stones on thistles


We’re awaken, seen in wounds

Heal, we heal




Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 159 times
Written on 2023-09-29 at 11:11

Tags Heal  Blood  Life 

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