Lullaby
We are lulled,
led like children.
Transfixed,
by the music,
of the pied piper.
We become blind.
Can’t decide,
what is reality,
and what is not.
What it is,
is a passing flame,
extinguished by
the lightest breath.
Light returns to dark.
The dark relief.
By Dawn
Superb
Thanks!
fantastic ! I’m genuinely enjoying reading your pieces, thank you