Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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The cloud swallowed the sun, the earth growing gray with cold mist. Angels sang in finished verse with divine melody woven as stitches to mend bleeding minds. And we cried at the lack of definition, surrounded by the siren song of sexless children, their wings thrumming a discordant rhythm that bruised the sky, and kept us burned in the light. #irispad #day29 #sept29 #cloud #wordoftheday #sky #sun #fog #eerie #poem #poetry #writer #writing #literary_imagery (at Air Death)

To see what's what in the world of Santo

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