Thursday, 4 June 2015

The Street

The Street

Walk slow.
Barefoot.
Gravel.
Puddle drowned
blood
washes away.

Heaven cries
         flooded street.
It's voice
screams

night air
clings
to skin,
hail of glass
street of sin

stop walking.

Look,
into the eyes
of your storm.

Decide tactic.

Keep moving


_______________________________

with love, Kay x
P.s. hope you all like my new blog layout!

'Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add colour to my sunset sky.' - Rabindranath Tagore