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veronica-wardPoems
The image isn't reflected It is backwards, Upside down. A mirror - In reality clear glass. Alternative ending, Like a nightmare Everything is the same But with hidden motive. With clear vision The two are obviously Opposite. The truth is buried Behind lies. If only the hiding place Had been found But the hand had reached And turned the light out. Stumbling through the dark The idea of home seems Comforting The delusions which cloud the mind Fill the emptiness And answers the questions Creating artificial light. Easy enough To mistake the small circle of heat Which radiates from a bulb With the encompassment Of a roaring fire When you never before Experienced - warmth. Desperately seeking, The compromise seems Excusable. The only regret is this - Blinded and tainted The true flame, Invisible Because a glow had cloaked The darkness, Was not found sooner.
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Jun 21, 2011
Jun 21, 2011 at 6:25 PM UTC
Reasoning
The image isn't reflected It is backwards, Upside down. A mirror - In reality clear glass. Alternative ending, Like a nightmare Everything is the same But with hidden motive. With clear vision The two are obviously Opposite. The truth is buried Behind lies. If only the hiding place Had been found But the hand had reached And turned the light out. Stumbling through the dark The idea of home seems Comforting The delusions which cloud the mind Fill the emptiness And answers the questions Creating artificial light. Easy enough To mistake the small circle of heat Which radiates from a bulb With the encompassment Of a roaring fire When you never before Experienced - warmth. Desperately seeking, The compromise seems Excusable. The only regret is this - Blinded and tainted The true flame, Invisible Because a glow had cloaked The darkness, Was not found sooner.
veronica-ward
Written by
veronica-ward
Swedish
Jun 21, 2011
Jun 21, 2011 at 6:25 PM UTC
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