Afterlife

A sea of infant hands grasp up their eyes drawn out to an abyss a dark void, out of reach, the absent hand, the masked visage, unseen, unseeable our whispers, unheard, unhearable God is dead, God is dead.

Comments 6

Tom N

3 years ago

Brilliant first piece, Ella! I love the line: “the repetition of “unseen, unseeable” and “unheard, unhearable” - very powerful.

It would have been cool to expand on the idea and see it in more detail. I look forward to reading more of your pieces :)

Brie Zee

3 years ago

I love your imagery and the words that you use. They flow well together and sound pleasant together! Great work! Keep writing ✍️

Ella Swain

Out of practice & ambitious.