I walk where the morning is painted in gold, Through whispers of stories the breezes have told. Each step is a promise, each breath is a hold,
By Emma 5 months ago in Poets
The tide came in with a furious roar, Its hands reaching far for the trembling shore. The wind sang loud in a voice I’d ignore,
The rain fell hard on a weary day, Its silver hands tried to wash me away. Yet deep inside, I could hear you say, “The sun will come, just don’t lose your way.”
I have loved you in the quiet before dawn, when the air is still and the world has not yet learned its own name. I have loved you
In the hush of the night, your hand I embrace, Every shadow dissolves in your gentle grace. Through the trials we face, we keep steady pace,
They start like sparks behind my eyes, Then drift like smoke across the skies A sentence formed, but left half said, A dream that tumbles back to bed
In corners of rooms and hearts they stay, The bags we left from yesterday— With names, and scars, and shirts that smell, Of things we swore we’d never tell
I stood before it, still and bare, But found no trace of me in there The glass looked back, but not with grace, It showed a stranger’s quiet face
There are plants in corners collecting dust, Gifts of care now streaked with rust We promised them sun, we promised bloom,
There’s a pair of shoes near the door, Still waiting like they did before Untied laces, silent and still, Echoes of footsteps that time won’t fill
They once burned in corners warm and bright, Each flame a promise, a guiding light Stories gathered beneath their glow, But now they sit, with dust in tow
She once dreamed of canvases, wide and bright Of dancing shoes and city light Of books she'd write and stars she'd name, Of foreign streets and stage-born fame
