No longer do I weigh the shade and fire, for both have shaped the marrow of my days. The dark has carved the depth of my desire,
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 months ago in Poets
The air grows thin, a silence at the gate, where shadow bends and light begins to tear. Here time dissolves, and space forgets its weight,
The heavens open, vast with voiceless fire, their silver tongues too distant to be heard. Each star a witness, ancient with desire,
The morning rises through a veil of gray, its embers scattered in the trembling sky. The night has burned, yet in its slow decay
The evening bends, a choir without refrain, its voices woven out of flame and shade. The sky, once bright, now wears a softer chain,
The forest listens, rooted in its song, each bough a witness to the lives it keeps. Its shadows cradle whispers that belong
I kneel beside the river’s silver face, its shifting glass a threshold for my eyes. It gathers light, yet shadows still find place,
The sun’s embrace is broken by the moon, a fleeting crown of fire frames the sky. The world is dimmed, yet promises its boon:
The roses bloom with equal flame and thorn, their petals bright, their fragrance edged with pain. The morning gold reveals what night has worn,
Your face returns in flame against the night, a warmth that lingers though the shadows grow. The candle bends its glow to keep you bright,
I don't know how you do that with the dark Teaching it to dance with the light you are Shaking their jeers from your hair with a bark
By D. J. Reddall4 months ago in Poets
The darkness creeps in I feel as though I'm spiraling in mid-air My thoughts run rampant There is no clarity to be found anywhere
By J.W. Baird4 months ago in Poets
