Through the dusk and gloom she came, like a storm from lands unknown; with eyes of fire, a voice of music, and a heart that beat like thunder. Her phoenix soul, adorned in vibrant shades of scarlet and gold, spread the beauty of her ashes, replenishing the parched earth beneath her feet. As if her touch were enough to save us all. And it was. For all that she did was done in love and grace. And the world burned for her smile. My god, how it burned for her.
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Bone and Sinew
All I have are words. I will never be a man of riches, nor privilege, nor exquisite means. I have, instead, only these humble words that pour from my heart; bled through ink onto bone of paper and sinew of print. Words that I have felt so deeply within my very being that they have shaken the surface to be set free into the world. To find their way to that which gives new meaning and sends them soaring on high with such elation and grandeur! Though softly.
By Steve Boggs8 years ago in Poets
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