Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

anchored high

all of the dark that is low and
buried beneath the ground,
gravity hugs it in close,
only caves seem to keep it around

but as we grow up, we draw
closer so we can hear the sound
of the night growing dark
within our hearts,

the call draws us home,
going lower to be brought
higher, we grow wings
when we are released of our bones

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: ascend

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