Stark blue suns are her eyes,
Set in the redden cosmos of breaking hair,
Light is caught in rings
And broke are mine as they shy from heat;
The cauldron of spheres,
That rope in the twines of constellations.
In fractals of tearing blood;
Which stream in a body so like heavens,
She plays with sprung time
And the arrow of reason is forced beyond,
Into the eyes unknowing;
How the flesh is shorn in the cloths of stars.
Such cold fire in those eyes,
Neutron blue is the inert crush of gravity;
Unloosed with surrender
And in a field of meteors lies the alchemy;
Crash of rarified metals,
She smelts of iridium blast, casts into soul.
Her eys are for makings,
Planets collide to form creations dream;
To bury sorrows in rock,
As it flows up from an orb into her mantle;
A plateau of cloud for man,
To reach birth of light, christen in goddess.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Stark blue suns are her eyes,
Set in the redden cosmos of breaking hair,
Light is caught in rings
And broke are mine as they shy from heat;
The cauldron of spheres,
That rope in the twines of constellations.
In fractals of tearing blood;
Which stream in a body so like heavens,
She plays with sprung time
And the arrow of reason is forced beyond,
Into the eyes unknowing;
How the flesh is shorn in the cloths of stars.
Such cold fire in those eyes,
Neutron blue is the inert crush of gravity;
Unloosed with surrender
And in a field of meteors lies the alchemy;
Crash of rarified metals,
She smelts of iridium blast, casts into soul.
Her eys are for makings,
Planets collide to form creations dream;
To bury sorrows in rock,
As it flows up from an orb into her mantle;
A plateau of cloud for man,
To reach birth of light, christen in goddess.
