Monochromatic walls slowly regain their pigment in the early morning glow. You slumber still, a peaceful state unbroken by any worldly distractions. As the rising light
The cold wind bit at his face as he traversed the front walk, skipping the last step just as he always used to as a child.
Through the branches, outstretched, like glittering gold in a sifting pan; their effervescence forever etched upon the sky where light began. Like glittering gold in a sifting pan,
She waits under cover of darkness, undeserving of the sun’s luster. Her form that of a withering carcass, No will remains to muster. Undeserving of the sun’s luster,