Based on the August Gothic prompt, “Whispers in the darkness”.
A full list of prompts can be found in my posts on July 31st, if you would like to participate.
Faceless voices,
words sliding over unseen lips,
a weight presses against me,
like the rattling of windows in a storm.
I can feel the tension in the air,
doubting the sun will ever rise again,
even as the dawn threatens to break
with a splatter of reds and oranges.
Is hope painted in those same colors,
or will the brush only hold greys,
hope pinned to the front of greeting cards,
but nowhere to be found.©️ Emma Steel
But maybe not lost.
Thank you, I feel these lines - "I can feel the tension in the air,
doubting the sun will ever rise again,
even as the dawn threatens to break
with a splatter of reds and oranges."
Beautifully put :)