The Aesthetics Of Sorrow

yaskhan

Maybe I can broker a deal with the angels..
Elegiac offering versed

rien n'est éternel

I promise to behave~
If the heavens ever
Decide to take me.

In the purple stillness,
I douse my fevered mind with bloodroot
And come back to myself
To breathe the haze of emerald hues.
I cry with my eyes
But without tears
That’s how broken heartstrings feel
Like the song inside the soul of a bird in winter ..
When a butterfly dreams of flowers
In an autumn wind
Filled with violins
Kind of blue—
The sound of jazz
vie est brève

For that brief moment
When the light went out
Of your eyes—
Even the day felt lonely.



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