I am September's child,
born in Venus' sensual gaze,
doused in twilight blue,
a dream bearer and a slave
to rough pleasure and smooth pain.
In ethereal fields of green
I bask in my soul's delight,
the bitter wastelands of life itself
make me weary, lonely and lost.
I paint my canvas midnight black
and splatter rainbows on the dark,
I pull down the sun, worship the stars,
I siphon your sorrow with a lily's smile.
On my scales I weigh your mind
as well as mine, I ponder words
like purest gold, loathing lead
and stone, my treasure is peace.
Wind and fire, my primordial mixture,
I scream lullabies, I whisper threats,
in love and hate I revel, this is me,
I am September's child.
With this poem I meant to portray the contradictions of what it means to a be a Libra from a personal, non-universal perspective.