October 21, 2007 § Leave a comment

The moment of darkness,
amongst bright lights

Sweet calm that washes,
amidst a roaring noise

The sliver of speckled sun,
scattered with golden dust

The thorn amid flowers
flower amid thorns

Eyes lost in memory
damp in smiling thought

The nearness of a star
so distant and afar

Radiance captured
in a teardrop fallen aside

The imperfect doth render
the sordid beautifully perfect


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You are currently reading Perfection at Pocketful of matters grey.


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