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If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold

If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play, again and again and again, in time remembering a melody. revolutions per minute and a tin-foil diaphragm faintly reproduce from a wax disc of spiraling lines, a voice, by which we came to know these things. The moon, lost in the impenetrable cloud banks of the Great War; Mother of Planes, whose hum fades into large bosom, returning us, only as always, with the rain. The fields remain a voice in a picture, and beneath the tin crackle of minutes at night, the serene song is reasonably heard. For better read 🌸 If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play,
If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play, again and again and again, in time remembering a melody. revolutions per minute and a tin-foil diaphragm faintly reproduce from a wax disc of spiraling lines, a voice, by which we came to know these things. The moon, lost in the impenetrable cloud banks of the Great War; Mother of Planes, whose hum fades into large bosom, returning us, only as always, with the rain. The fields remain a voice in a picture, and beneath the tin crackle of minutes at night, the serene song is reasonably heard. For better read 🌸 If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play,
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Sahana~

New Creator