The Coldest Gray (Original Poetry)

She sits on high

Clothed in purple.
They all must bow
She reigns with ice
Inside her veins.
Her chilling stare
Leaves you frozen.
When will it end?
The people cry
Is there hope left?
Someday a flame
Will warm this land
And melt away
The coldest gray.

Day 12 of the #JuneFalls poetry challenge

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s