Venge.
If we were kinder, they wouldn’t need to hail cataclysmic disaster.
To give Fire a voice,
She would say my dance enchants,
My touch will consume.
For Water would weep,
Her oceans rife with poison,
With strength remorseless.
Air would sing of woe,
As she musters a bellow,
Devastate structures.
Earth Mother of all,
Whispers soft to open up,
So down we will fall.
About the Creator
Jennifer Stevens
My passions lie in hiking, writing, painting, exploring and creating just about anything that inspires me.
My ideal genres are horror, mystery and thriller.
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Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell4 days ago in Fiction
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