The whir of the projector
demands belief - in the
shadows against the sheets;
as our breaths shiver,
akin to drum skins
belying civil sin.
As we blow smoke
into the light - igniting
our own auroras
creating "starry nights"
on dustlight - becoming
fog in the moonless night.
searching for sanctity
within the degradation;
for in the midst of entropy
we'll build cages from our fires
trapping our embers
by the milky ways grace;
surrending our essence
for the chaos to embrace.
Image Source : Pixabay
a good poem .. I am very interested in the word sequence of your poem .. let alone the poem about love .. this is one poetry that we can take an example .. thanks friends ..
Thank you so much :)
Well done,
Thanks.