Ink of humid fire

It dusked.
Betwixt the edifices I look towards the heaven,
while inspired singing I walk.

I take the enormous pencil,
soak it with ink,
and agitate it upwards.

The gouts of colour contrast
crashing against the black welkin.
With the impact each one in ten more transforms.
And the night remains refulgent,
drizzled with ink of humid fire.

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