In the mystery of its soul
Light holds a soulful secret.
When darkness casts its conceit over the horizon
in monochrome shades of melancholy,
it resurrects as a Firebird
in golden silhouettes of flame,
illuminating the warped convictions of a
perverted darkness.
Light once knocked
at the stony tomb of your conscience
calling out your name.
But you feigned, refused to leave
the comforts of a pretended ignorance!
You didn’t realise you’re my thoughts
incarnated in charming colours of a conundrum!
How long will I call out your name
before you allow the light of my resurrection
to shred the shroud of a deathly pretence?
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
In the mystery of its soul
Light holds a soulful secret.
When darkness casts its conceit over the horizon
in monochrome shades of melancholy,
it resurrects as a Firebird
in golden silhouettes of flame,
illuminating the warped convictions of a
perverted darkness.
Light once knocked
at the stony tomb of your conscience
calling out your name.
But you feigned, refused to leave
the comforts of a pretended ignorance!
You didn’t realise you’re my thoughts
incarnated in charming colours of a conundrum!
How long will I call out your name
before you allow the light of my resurrection
to shred the shroud of a deathly pretence?
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