by Demi Armstrong
When shadows fall, would
walls of darkness form around me?
May I sink into the ground,
cold and malleable and akin
to shadow, birthed from the sun?
Still, immovable. How could I
black and white, disturn
colourful and vibrant light?
I would let light swallow me,
my bones grinding, my flesh
Turned to dust.
Corrupted, blackened air
may mimic concrete buildings
and breathing mountains alike.
Take my body but leave my heart,
tear it from my soul.
Wings sprouted from torn skin
will spread the length of the sun.
Should my body remain in shadows,
my soul would leave, singing bird songs
of a life gone and reach the maternal sun
unburnt.
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