In that ashen pallor of landscape,
wearing
not the beauteous wintery-white
but the toxic smokey shroud;
beneath that grey blanket,
that thick, hazy and gloomy spread;
midst that smothered afterglow of twilight,
we experience the quavers of doom.
Is it too late?
We shiver.
Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗
wearing
not the beauteous wintery-white
but the toxic smokey shroud;
beneath that grey blanket,
that thick, hazy and gloomy spread;
midst that smothered afterglow of twilight,
we experience the quavers of doom.
Is it too late?
We shiver.
Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.