Umbral Ascension

Mon, 10/22/2018 - 22:58 -- th3m4g3

Upon the moonlit morrow,

gasps a breath,

faintly growing weaker.

§

If only tomorrow,

could pause in rue,

of Death's endless eager.

§

Fallen at last,

the soulless spirit

guided by the One.

§

Drifting to,

the holy darkness,

of Heaven's gates begun.

 

-Seth

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
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