I don't belong here,
Got to get away;
Poet, close your eyes:
The fire at the head of a verse
Takes me where verbs and stars
Collide,
(And the girl whose ancient name
Is fire)
Black rose consoler of sorrows,
My worries ride the sky today,
Brilliant nocturnal fool
I can see all the words escape
A collision with atmosphere,
Flocked with hope
It gathers steam towards
The kiss of the quarter moon;
Your name is HOPE.
I nail my dreams to sky black
Bridging the gaps in the abyss,
I catch a ride with the tail
Of a comet's tears
And endure its loneliness like
A broth of nourishing sacrifice:
"Take my hand dear poet,
Your words are embers
On a midsummer harvest"
And the world froze beneath
It's cylindrical tail
As the wheel of days did not
Revolve;
I became a solar sorrow,
My dreams burst into sunflowers
In a flame of words
Bursting itself from my soul,
Each night as the world
Becomes too much,
I escape and the poem takes
Me away.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
I don't belong here,
Got to get away;
Poet, close your eyes:
The fire at the head of a verse
Takes me where verbs and stars
Collide,
(And the girl whose ancient name
Is fire)
Black rose consoler of sorrows,
My worries ride the sky today,
Brilliant nocturnal fool
I can see all the words escape
A collision with atmosphere,
Flocked with hope
It gathers steam towards
The kiss of the quarter moon;
Your name is HOPE.
I nail my dreams to sky black
Bridging the gaps in the abyss,
I catch a ride with the tail
Of a comet's tears
And endure its loneliness like
A broth of nourishing sacrifice:
"Take my hand dear poet,
Your words are embers
On a midsummer harvest"
And the world froze beneath
It's cylindrical tail
As the wheel of days did not
Revolve;
I became a solar sorrow,
My dreams burst into sunflowers
In a flame of words
Bursting itself from my soul,
Each night as the world
Becomes too much,
I escape and the poem takes
Me away.
