He who claims the flame of blue. Cloaked in red and hovers above ground. You’ve ran so far yet as I could only watch from behind a screen, a theatrical experience I suppose. I came to wonder what was hidden behind that cloak. Something of velvet and 10 feet tall. I’ve seen the pain well in your eyes and the emotions within you burst to me; I question myself and I question you. In your hands you wield three golden hoops and in a flash you stand and take yourself Down the psychiatric wall past the stage and to a circle of chairs. My point of view, not. But yours. It was strange, for I didn’t know I could dream in such a view. Yet.. Not comforting knowing you’re now hiding from yourself.
Jan 19, 2020
Jan 19, 2020 at 5:30 PM UTC
He who claims the flame of blue. Cloaked in red and hovers above ground. You’ve ran so far yet as I could only watch from behind a screen, a theatrical experience I suppose. I came to wonder what was hidden behind that cloak. Something of velvet and 10 feet tall. I’ve seen the pain well in your eyes and the emotions within you burst to me; I question myself and I question you. In your hands you wield three golden hoops and in a flash you stand and take yourself Down the psychiatric wall past the stage and to a circle of chairs. My point of view, not. But yours. It was strange, for I didn’t know I could dream in such a view. Yet.. Not comforting knowing you’re now hiding from yourself.
Request permission to use this poem