The Flower

The Flower

The flower is like its purple kiss
from heaven.
Beautiful and silent
Like twas laid in blankets of motherly
prophecies.
Essence bowing to air in breath of
mountainly brethren,
and consciousness laid in everlasting motions.
So twas the night when hit its
glory figments –
and drowned the world out of all
correspondence.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “The Flower

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s