Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Sep 2014 Christal Tan
Frustrated Poet
As I struggled to find light
I didn't notice the moon
facing down giving a smile.

Her smile was warm
like a spark set ablaze
she stared back at me,
waited for a story as I paced.

Her gentle light touched my skin
inviting me

I told her a story
about a girl and her
unrequited love
I didn't tell her everything
there are words
i cannot fathom myself.

She told me: "What a sad story, child."
and left me there
darkness closing in from behind.

When I looked up,
I saw a tear trickled down her cheeks
then became a storm.
a sigh of grief escaped my lips
almost too numb to feel the burn.

She knew...She felt it too.

And now it's almost sunrise
I watched her disappear
from the earth,
from my sight.

The sorrow, the pain
gone with the night.
A story I once told the moon
out in the dusky twilight.
:')
:'(
  Sep 2014 Christal Tan
Ecila
;
“This is my skin. This is not your skin, yet you are still under it.”
IAIN
  Sep 2014 Christal Tan
Frustrated Poet
I sat on an old bench
Near that oak tree
Searched for the ideal spot
Provide the perfect lighting
From where I shall picture the view.
I stared at the vast blue blanket
Listened to the beautiful noise it makes
The atmosphere hovered with tranquility
I am at peace, drifting in serenity
I watched as the sky turned to
fiery red to comely orange
Slowly indigo creeps in
with a touch of navy blue
All shades of strong hue.
I took a deep breath and sighed
Another attempt to interpret your loveliness
On a blank canvass
I see it clear in my mind
And I started to sketch.
A stroke tinted to perfection
Lines and circles to describe affection
A shade to remind me
how bright your eyes glistened
Down to emptiness shown by your eyes' darkness.
It'll take a lifetime to draw
Something as stunning as you
I'd paint the universe, if I can
Of my love for you

When the sun sets and gives the earth its daily kiss
What lovers watching sure will miss
You're the inspiration for this moment of bliss
Your existence is art and I call it masterpiece.
I'll call it a day
And put the brush down
Another praise for she
Who has the crown.
Next page