It sounds the same veiled in mists
Or brightened with an embrace
Marking the star for looking back
Within a moonlight dream
My spirit smiles and says “What else”
To the bravest man in battle
When all I want is to rest
Within a rosy flush
In all the conflict I am enwrapped
The deeds, which I abhor
Where is the parade of joy I seek
That I wish to call my own
Whose invitation or thoughts of flight
Satisfy me when I am alone
When I am content to be like a flower
In all of my brightest days
Through all that I have gone through
The colors with which I am stained
Why can I not subdue my spirit
For these dreams of rest
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 7:54 PM UTC
It sounds the same veiled in mists
Or brightened with an embrace
Marking the star for looking back
Within a moonlight dream
My spirit smiles and says “What else”
To the bravest man in battle
When all I want is to rest
Within a rosy flush
In all the conflict I am enwrapped
The deeds, which I abhor
Where is the parade of joy I seek
That I wish to call my own
Whose invitation or thoughts of flight
Satisfy me when I am alone
When I am content to be like a flower
In all of my brightest days
Through all that I have gone through
The colors with which I am stained
Why can I not subdue my spirit
For these dreams of rest
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
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