Comments about Victoria Lin
Distance, A Mirage Of Peace
From a star's view in remote land,
Adept for a creation of tranquility,
Perhaps an illusion so mere for the soul,
To abandon beliefs for dystopian mortality.
Foremost, it appears if eras shall bolt the illusion,
Leisurely filching the marrow of life, capability,
Of literate, for whom but of memories could rouse,
Possibly could set free o'er the acknowledged trial of poetry?
Many a epoch, the solitary arts exists of unrecognizable sprays,
Of dim black, weary yet drained, swathing the void white?
Conceivably of crimson, beseeching to forgive, yet ...