Maeve

Maeve Feb 25

A Moment

What begins as a moment
A single fleeting moment
Can scar

Isolation blooms and wilts
You flick the switch,
The light never holds,
Leaving you hollow,
Craving the heat of others’ flames.

They burn you bare,
Feeding their fires with your light.
The scorched grow wary.

Some shiver forever,
Never facing the glow,
Others wield fire,
Fingers blistered from its touch.
We silently wish
For the warmth of others.

Maeve Feb 25

Adrift in the Mystic Realms

Velvet blooms in moonlight haze
Zephyrs whisper gentle songs into the maze
Beneath boughs, vibrant scenes
Ripped from the mystic realms where dreams convene
I long to return
Nevertheless, I am adrift
Whisked away by threads of time
Lost.
-Old friends

Maeve Feb 25

A Rose’s Wisdom

Beauty hides beneath
Open yourself to it
But beware its thorns

Maeve Feb 25

Perspective

Art is to feel
Dreams and nightmares,
Love and heartbreak,
Truth and betrayal.
No one feels as you do.
Once shared, it shifts—
Perspective reshapes it,
No longer yours.
It mixes into a monster.
Still, you carry it,
A constant weight,
Inescapable, unrelenting.

A beautiful tragedy.

Maeve Feb 25

Moth to the Flame

A moth mistakes a candle for the moon
It repeatedly flies in despite the heat
Why oh why, you moon drunk creature?
Perhaps it pities the candle,
knowing it will never shine as bright as the moon
So it flies in once more
Hoping it will be able see,
Even though it burns,
The candle shines as bright as the moon in the eyes of the moth.

— The End —