Hollowness Of Nirvana
An opening's gap
Construed as silver lining's
Lack— not wings; just blue stupor—
Clouds spinning circles.
Still crowns kings; a wisp of rain
Falls in brief— in heaven's clasp.
Why must light always be strewn of,
Shortened like tearing tears?
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2023
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