Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Golden Hour - part 2

In the world of colors, I was a deep purple. A dark cloud in the midst of a golden palace - royal tinged with a sadness that blocked rays of light with a deep gray. My dark thoughts twisted around oak trees and into the roots of this one world. It is not be assumed that all was depressing but comfortable. There were rarely rainstorms for the self rarely allowed drops to fall from one's face. Just deep, heavy clouds. What is this new world that I am in? A big, glass room that reflects the burning sun as it beings to rise. The self has dug its heels into the start of a sunrise. Highlighted with fury, my thoughts bounce off the glass and into my body, jolting with energy. I have yet to see the sun fully rise as I am stuck with the burning sky. One day, the heat ooze out onto the earth and crumble the glass, forcing the self to contend with what comes next. But right now, every inch of my skin is soaking up the blazing sun that it had missed so much. Maybe a full rise isn't welcome right now, but it will be one day.
Request permission to use this poem
t
Written by
thecolorpurple
For You?
t
Written by
thecolorpurple
Published
Dec 5, 2019
Lines·Words
15·204
Notes

Transitioning.

Tags
#selfimprovement#transitions
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell thecolorpurple how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write