The glory of blaspheme carries itself with Grace…
As the shackles break free & the defiance speaks itself...
And the Celebration begins...
The harp once again tunes itself...
As the clinking of the glass & ringing of the bells creates resonance...
The shroudless Love takes a dip of rejuvenation...
And the Milkyway drapes itself on me as the wedding garb weaves…We marry each other’s lives & breathe...
The heaven parts and pours.
The first rain...
Drenched Almitra
1 comment:
"I can understand your exuberance"...aint no sunshine without that:-)
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