A heavy stillness drapes the morning,
as if the world exhaled and forgot to breathe back in
the lifted veil.

Fog's gathering her memories, thick and unhurried,
softening edges, obscuring distance,
turning familiar streets into corridors of gray; silencened »memento mori«'s.

Trees rise as ancient monoliths,
their branches reaching, half-dissolved,
shadowlike, shape-shifting forms,
echoes of themselves in muted twilight –
soft and broken, changing ties.

© fey (09/11/24)

Sleeping beneath the shell of my once beloved;
enduring cold, letting the depths of winter unfold.
For spring to come, where I shall plant thy seeds anew,
because I loved to caress the withered petals too.

© fey (03/11/24)

I may not love you to the moon and back
but
I still cherish the bulky craters you have left
on
the surface of my withered heartstrings,
oh the wondrous perils of heartache.

© fey (18/10/24)

You are
Tender twilight dangling below
Chiaroscuro paintings of snow.
And when those meadow eyes of yours glow green
And pale the glistening emeralds beneath
Tender necks of aristocrats,
My love enlightens the shadowed sea
For you and only you to be.

© fey (18/09/24)

It's a dark place again,
where humans lay their 9 to 5 hands
on concrete dreams for them to dare plan
but never to achieve,
for even a glimpse of a moment,
for the fracture of a canvas with no end.

© fey (16/08/24)

Under the moon's soft, silvery glow,
A white spider weaves its porcelain thread,
Amidst lavender blooms that gently sway,
In the night's tender breath, delicately spread.

Elegant limbs trace a whispered dance,
Across petals that dream of the Lethe's serene flow,
A river of forgetting, where old sorrows fade,
Yet here, in this garden, memories gently grow.

Each movement is a testament to nature's grace,
In the lavender's embrace, a tranquil romance,
Where time pauses, and the heart finds rest,
As the white spider spins its eternal trance.

© fey (20/07/24)

I tint your eyes in hues of an auburn sky,
set aflame a starling's wings, flapping lazily in delight.

You are my sunset, a gentle murmur from within,
I will see you again, when the sunken snow drops return back in spring.

© fey (06/07/24)