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8.25 by Andre Ornelas

  • Writer: Dezaos
    Dezaos
  • Aug 25, 2024
  • 1 min read

Updated: Nov 29

8.25 by Andre OrnelasAndre Ornelas

August 25th, 2024


The wind felt cool

as it touched


the sides of his wings, orange reflections across the water

as far as her eyes could see, the smell of salt whisked their beings


"Are you sure our place is out there,

flight passed the unknown land?"


"There is land there,

to rest our aged wings."


Clouds guided their path down the endless.

Blues, reds, and grey were their last sights.

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Dezaos

 Digital Creatives

Photography, Writing,

Art, and Video productions

Created by Andre Goulart Ornelas

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