What The Thunder Said, Vol 4 | Page 68

Gossamer

By Raiden Fortun

Orange blackness on a cold harvest night,

when a portrait of yourself is held up

in the air, you gasp, leaves fall.

Now the blackness isn't afraid at all.

Instead, a pink gossamer is sown

into all those you love, tied together

in a ring and tossed into a lagoon,

But don't worry,

you will see another end soon.