deepundergroundpoetry.com

Deep Underground

 
is where we stumbled down the rabbit hole.
Where dark blooms flourished, petals of ink
plucked and flung into the brew. Stirred by
minds and passions, it bubbled over
and over.

The flames die down, dwindle to sparks.
It is time to chop some deadwood,
sparks will blaze
again.
Written by Atakti
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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