In My Hands
The morning sun died in my hands. I tried
to keep the flames alive, but the light seeped
through my fingertips like grains of sand. I
felt something sinister in the shadows. It called
to my heart and awoke a beast within. In my
hands I hold the fate of two. The mourning
son knew his father was damned to die.
In my hands
The tears of angels
Morning sun
Copyright © Christopher Goss | Year Posted 2021
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