An attractive storm

swanny

When colours collect dust
And words are concealed
When beauty is shaded
And the clouds are heavy grey

When a path leading to gardens
Becomes one going to graves
And when flowers turned to gold
Are crushed underneath feet

When diamonds cut to perfection
Join the coal once more
And the gold and the jewels
Are met by graves on hills

The world becomes sinister
People deprived of passion
All words and colours twisted
Into an attractive storm…

~Moniba.

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8 thoughts on “An attractive storm

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