Muse |
Muse |
Midnight blue like the sea in its deepest reverie, Boathouse lights glimmer warm and amber, Anbaric peer through the misty bank, Smudged like oil as if on canvas. In reality they oar on the bank Opposite as steady as the eyes That behold them. Resting within the tide of a night Veil streaming through the valley. A gatehouse stands black-eyed And scarred, guarding the only Bridge it knows. Its pupils dilated by the bright Lights it greets that cruise along. The pass. In darkness once more. Originally written in 2012, age 16
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AuthorSamantha is a doctoral researcher researching the power of figurative language in advertising, social media, and mobile technology. Copyright © 2022
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