The Pallor of it All

Written by: Glenn Sentes

 
My nightmare filled with streaks of saintly garb rousing the flares of benevolence and the strokes of compassionate ink scribbled on to the snow-hued papyrus. The fields of golden grains unmasked the unpolluted ecstacy of childlike desires Simple. Innocent. Pure. Softly swaying as the hammock in the dew air gently rupturing the laddery pride. It waves its resilient trunk then stoops to the god of snow. And the windows to the soul will tire peeking and paint instead ashen hopes Languid. Reminiscent of pallid hermit caressing colorless sands, tranquilly hummed by the songs of a lone shell under the unambiguous sky. Compose your poems now with the sallow ink on a dustless, ethereal white sheet.