Snowflakes.
Fading upon blushed flesh,
its rivulets a frame
sketched for the captive soul.
Gaze glimmering, hope dissolving,
an echo to the void of twilight’s end.
She longs to be released.
A breath divine.
An oasis to a threadbare wish
sculpts bittersweetness
into frosted air.
Embraced by light,
she follows the seraph’s call
and is freed.
•
Categories: All Poetry, Life & Love, Poetry by Phoebe
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Often, at the end, it’s the kindest thing we can do: but oh how it broke my heart …
This is quite lovely.
Thank you 💙
“Wow …. I can almost touch the loneliness reaching out, from that place ….. pulling people in, just as it hauled me in. Poetry in rapture …. Brilliant.” Henry Yorksed.
❤️ ❤️
Definitely a “keeper”.
☺️ ☺️
Beautiful poem❤️