Hush
A crimson rush, a swollen waist
A birth betwixt, ever piling waste
The fallen stars are on their way
To tear the very light from day
A tiny splash, a buried throne
A fading siren, wailing home
A mothers hush an’ awful sound
Of feet that lift right off the ground
No words now
No air to breath
A freezing tear,
The world to grief
Hush now, my broken star
You are home
Copyright © Francois Hillebrand | Year Posted 2019
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