Thursday, March 8

a poem

Unfurling fragility, whispers of a new life,
A new fate,
Above; hues of pink and peach, stars exploding silently,
Bellow; plants and buds,
The soil thick and rich, gently pushing my fingers into it,
My nails caked with earth.

Looking around me, things seem to change,
Faintly hearing a melody,
Sweet and innocent,
Reminding me of the fresh, of the new,

This world is awakening.
As I start to wander along a nondescript path,
Pools of silver start to form,
The moon is crying, its life has ended,
What we called home is no longer.

Not knowing why, feeling unresponsive,
Tears I call my own join the pools,
Two liquids, as sorrowful as each other,
I continue my way, aimless,
An outsider.

A tingling of sorts makes me swivel,
In front of me looms
A palace wide and large,
A deep shade of red,
Glowing and gleaming,
Full of promise.

2 thoughts:

  1. That sounds familiar! it so pretty!

    1. Yeah? Well it is mine (: And thank you


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