This April night, the jasmines sigh
a gentle, fragrant breath
like fallen stars, they watch the sky
envious of death
Tethered, earthbound, by their vines
how cruel, these crafty ropes
yet still they fail now to confine
the faintest of all hopes
When upon the stroke of midnight
the moon became as blood
vermillion shadows snuff the light
now outshone by a bud
A single, white, celestial...
Continue reading...