Time for the rare uplifting near non-prose. |
Winter basks upon the green Draining the color to neutrality Cold and void take the scene Dusk approaches all is serene I stumbled across the frozen path Attempting to cope with the aftermath She told me that I was a flame That fanned away her inner blame Tripping on the gnarled roots of dead trees Continuing my journey towards apathy My cheek afire from lips long gone Run run run into the daemon's maw The angelic woman took my hand Said not a word but gazed upon me with demand A scented flower long dried of its life My message to take to those hidden in the forest's strife Pitch black veiled my sight Perhaps it is my imagination but do you hear little voices chuckling in delight? A sharp talon ripped into my cloak In sudden panic did I almost choke Her message etched into my eyes I could not would not fall to these evil lies Brushing aside the thoughts of demise Plummeting further into the maze of vines Flash of light scarring my sight Drop to my knees in sudden fright At last the center where the trapped are denied Their cries gore my identity, my self, my pride I offer the message by blowing it into the sky A scream of pure ecstasy wails through the night The light explodes as far as one could see Snow melts suddenly to the new entropy The dusk has passed....the spirits are uncaged My beloved found my hand once again to engage Whispered sweet nothings into my deaf ear But I hear....I can hear. |