Poems from The Smallest Spark
Simply, be beautiful
Perfect beginning from end.
Doth it says, “He dies.”
A subtle drop falls
Falling from his face
Be it tears, or blood, it falls
A thrown skipping stone
Sinking to the river floor
Creeping to the shore
A cool waterfall
To a rushing river far
Flowing to the sea
A flow from within.
Deep within the soul it flows,
Pouring from her eyes.