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this was written about two really close friends that i love to death...
Though the sun has set,
Still there is light.
If they are my stars,
Then you are my moon, sweet one.
Giving the most light,
In this eternal night.
Reflecting the Sun's angelic light,
You absorb it.
You are an angel yourself.
Can I fly with you?
You offer to share your shining wings with me.
But can I look up?
Can I let go long enough to soar with you?
You tap my shoulder and pluck me out my reverie.
I see the pain reflected in your eyes too.
Are you ready to fall too?
I'll let go if it will help you fly.
I will fly with you, I promise.
I won't let you fall, I swear it.
We'll hold each other up,
And fly together.
 SardonicEuphoria · Wed Mar 19, 2008 @ 07:21am · 0 Comments |
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this is a longer poem of mine... it's sectioned into different, chapters shall we say.. they all add up into a story that is a metaphor in itself. if it makes any sense, congrats!
The Race
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Running.
Faster, faster, faster.
Cutting through the dim light.
Weaving,
Back and forth between the trees.
Leg's pumping,
Harder, harder, harder.
Drumming in my head.
Drumming in my heart.
Heartbeat racing,
Racing to stay level with my legs.
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Trees
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And then the light opens up.
The trees part,
And the glorious summer Sun beats down on my back.
The breaking of light stuns me,
As if I thought the trees would never end.
The horrid trees,
Ripping,
Scratching at my body, my face, my legs.
Trying to slow me.
Trying to stop me.
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Never Ending
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And now I run.
Faster than ever.
Never Ending.
Slicing through the soft grasses,
Like a boat skimming through water.
And the Sun.
Oh, the Sun.
Beautiful Dawn bringing the light.
And it looks to never end.
It never should end.
This is freedom.
This is bliss.
And it looks to never end.
And the Sun screams a promise,
"This will never end."
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Broken Promise
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And the chasm appears.
A great schism ripping apart the earth.
Never saw it coming.
And the beautiful Sun,
And the soft grass...
Continues -
On the other side.
But I fall.
Plunged into the dark again.
It is blacker here.
Not like in the trees.
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Screaming
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Stagnant air envelopes me,
Suffocating me.
And I scream for the Sun,
To pull me back up.
Let me breathe again.
Let me smell the sweet air that can only come from it,
Beating down on the soil,
The grass,
The wildflowers.
But there is no reply.
I scream again,
Mourning the loss,
The broken promise.
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Cold
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And still I fall.
The sides of the divide catch at me,
Rip me.
But it goes on.
The rocks pounding away at me.
Chipping me away
Little... by... little....
But still I fall.
And the bottom is nowhere is sight,
As it grows cold,
From the lack of the Sun's angelic warmth.
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When will this end?
SardonicEuphoria · Wed Mar 19, 2008 @ 06:47am · 1 Comments |
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