Resonance

After William Blake

By Ellie HoovsPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

Her hair is infinite strands of gold

reminding me, this is Heaven I hold,

I have died, in part,

woe ridden only that I cannot freeze time,

Carrying the weight of many worlds,

and loving greater still,

a heart, that isn’t mine.

Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.

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