What Was

There was no bullet through the night

no assassin on a high tower

or poison seeping into skin exposed

no blade to pierce flesh and blood

or arrow loosed upon the forward ranks

There was only dream and shadow

wrought from the fabric of the sky

to cover all the world

with a fear that the end might come

and then it did

There’s only one way to write a book: one word at a time.

Photo by Oscar Keys from StockSnap

4 thoughts on “What Was”

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