Fireworks, ensemble of black heaven's art, come tell the night of your bright dreams, come tell them to my heart, for I was born to live through colour.
Tell me of the rainbows, tell me of the dark, tell me of the lit and burning firework spark, for I yearn for are the colours, all I need is the light, and in this way I will ever extinguish my fright.
The fireworks are chaos and predictability - their explosive gifts finding their own time and space to own. As they do, I am the spectator, the one seeing their blazing trails arc above. There's something about them that warms me even in the cold, as if their stray sparks passed into my blood.
I always wanted to draw rainbows in the dark, hold pencils of pure light, I guess that's why I love fireworks so. As we head out together with the stars all around, a blanket for this planet that's half asleep, half awake, I'm already imagining their colours, cradling a box of matches in my hand.
Keep track of your favorite writers on Descriptionari
We won't spam your account. Set your permissions during sign up or at any time afterward.