And maybe I am not the shooting star
Or the green feathers of a wide-winged aurora display.
Maybe I am not the gold-tipped petals of a royal rose
Or the moon reflected back in owl eyes.
Maybe I am none of the mystical things at all
But the rocks on the ground gathering dust.
Maybe I am the felled logs listening to footsteps
As they stomp close and then peel away.
Maybe I am the branches broken by a storm
Or the arcing wires dancing on the street.
Maybe I am not the kind of thing that glows.
But maybe I am also not the kind of thing that rots.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions


Comments (6)
OH my goodness, THIS is a work of art, Silver! Always mesmerized and pulled into the deeper layers of myself when caught in the lines of your poetry.
The imagery in this is so well done. I love the range of what may be.
You're amazing, you glows and you're much more better then you think
Wow, this was realy powerful and different, or just super special. It seems to be about an average soul, ping ponged into reality only to be compared.
Wow, Silver! I should be used to how powerfully written your poetry is but once again I’m floored and picking myself back up again. The way you turned all the pretty images upside down with that final line is just incredible. Fleeting vs enduring, a well executed contrast
Yes, we can't say it exactly. We are not that exceptional. So, may be is a safe zone.