A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.
Elemental
When it flies, there is a hole in the clouds
A glimpse between breathes, to a city beyond the garden wall
Your hand was cold, so I didn’t touch it
The lines were all even, but they looked unbalanced
A stream of salt water trickling down a dry cliff face
Canyon, call back to me
There is no echo
And down at the bottom of the empty well
Nothing shines, nothing glimmers or glows but
My breath rises, to escape your velocity
paullang.blog 