Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Complex Beauty Pale blue liquid captured in an orb surrounded by milky colored living fabric framed by long streams of blond silk. Tiny pink rose petals   outline shiny pearls bordering a red cave. Two pillars stand on crumbling surfaces carrying the necessities of life. Various vessels attach to a clock ticking towards the unknowable end. Hot maroon velvet circulates throughout the majestic system. The source of all knowledge spreads its roots controlling the organs as their symphony echos throughout the warm establishment. The beauty of complexity casts itself through shining sapphire spheres. The wet smoothness of the living fabric sends the fluttering of butterfly wings into the one who has touched it. The shimmering of the silk illuminated under the sun burns a hole into the pit of that one. Gasping for relief from the aggressive attraction. Breathing in heavily to grasp the rawness of emotions.     A sudden stop.                                    Fear takes over. The clock stops.                                     The flow stops.  The roots die.                                           The system defective.                                                    Waiting    to be                                            mended.
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
Complex Beauty
Complex Beauty Pale blue liquid captured in an orb surrounded by milky colored living fabric framed by long streams of blond silk. Tiny pink rose petals   outline shiny pearls bordering a red cave. Two pillars stand on crumbling surfaces carrying the necessities of life. Various vessels attach to a clock ticking towards the unknowable end. Hot maroon velvet circulates throughout the majestic system. The source of all knowledge spreads its roots controlling the organs as their symphony echos throughout the warm establishment. The beauty of complexity casts itself through shining sapphire spheres. The wet smoothness of the living fabric sends the fluttering of butterfly wings into the one who has touched it. The shimmering of the silk illuminated under the sun burns a hole into the pit of that one. Gasping for relief from the aggressive attraction. Breathing in heavily to grasp the rawness of emotions.     A sudden stop.                                    Fear takes over. The clock stops.                                     The flow stops.  The roots die.                                           The system defective.                                                    Waiting    to be                                            mended.
olivia-jacobson
Written by
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem