Bathed in tranquil moonlight,
a stage adorned with silken strands.
A tale to tell of hunger,
of passion,
of dark desire.
No whispers,
no wrenching pleas,
no tormented soliloquies.
Not yet.
A sticky plot awaiting luckless lovers,
the scene set for an unwelcome rendezvous.
Last curtain call.
Patience.
Fate’s dance will bring chaos
and glory;
triumph.
And each fragile filament will have served its final purpose.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Author: Elle
I'm a moderator at Writing.com, the mother of two gifted children, the wife of a Twitch gaming streamer and the Queen of Unfinished Projects. I've been reading since I was 4 years old, writing poems (badly) since 1994, blogging since 2001 and I started studying photography in 2010. This blog will contain poems, short stories, book reviews and my thoughts on a variety of topics. Hope you enjoy it.
View all posts by Elle
