Tired In Sulk Poem by benjamin bueno

Tired In Sulk



A pigment escape through bloodshot haze. Hangs itself so lately drift. By wearing me off the sound of plague. And while orange energy anchors at the end of the earth. And by burning amber skies blooms at the top of the world. There i see the moment. When the moon is heavily emerged. A light through sight. What beauty! How palamino coal can bleed inspiration. By constantly taking the the day. And consistantly taking its toll.

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