Pencils scratch into blunt swords
As fire-filled minds trace letters in blood
A clock’s lonely heartbeat knocks at the silence
It cracks open, just a little
In the heart’s deepest garden
A disorganised symphony rattles its mismatched tune
The lonely melodies shudder and spin
No need for special tears
Come home!
Only a whisper is left
Crescendo after crescendo snatches at its feathers
Strips it bare and frightened
It timidly fights against the waves of fire
As trees of gold turn crimson and charcoal,
Its wings catch the wind and it soars
The silence cracks once more
It splinters and spreads,
Then hardens into a memory
A halt in the fighting demands attention
The air melts into coloured lights as eyes turn to watch a single voice
Step into the spotlight
Then
The world holds its breath
And it sings.
About the Creator
Ruby Red
Heya friend, I'm Red!
I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask 🌱
Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology 🫶💖
AI is not art.
Comments (2)
The imagery and flow of this poem is awesome :) I read it twice just to make sure I caught it all and the cover image is amazing!
Beautiful poem. I love the imagery you have in here.