Broken world

 

And in that moment
when the world broke,
splitting in unseen
ways, as if destiny

had written itself into
invisible cracks, which
eventually, would be
prised open, in silent

tearing, to ensure the
known, scattered itself
in new ways, to allow
fate to mould another

shape, create different
form, not yet imagined
or perhaps dreamed,
and yet lying always

as the seed of some
thing which demanded
to be birthed, brought
forth from the ruins.

So the world smiled
in its brokeness and
promised hope from
the dregs of being,

as golden light ran
through the wounds,
identifying, healing
and offering beauty.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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