My words – but feeble brushes
attempt to recapture
the essence of a masterpiece
in black and white lines,
to give flight to a long dormant eagle,
raise a long set sun,
scorch the soul of the horizon,
make diamonds of the dew.
To paint with worded brush
the infamy of sunrise red
setting fire to daybreak,
the purple edge of waking blue
clinging to the moonlight,
the...
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