Twirling in the Wind


In another nebula,
showered by crystal cascades,
steps were elegantly
touching the ground,
in a cadence of painful sighs,
twirling in the wind,
seeking for oblivion.
The lady there cared not
for frost-laden breeze;
jealously cooled her wrinkles,
nor for shadows of curiosity
caste on watchful eyes,
to heal her abrasions
calm the weary soul;
she proceeded with the ball
embracing every fallen hope,
set an essence of beauty
enlivened by her own art.






**  Prose, inspired by the great novel which...
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