Reflect unto me the colors of the heavens,
Strike me with all your shades of Blue,
For how deep my secrets are,
From captivity to where I’m born anew.
Life forms and dies, forms and dies,
Within me,
Can’t you see I reflect the heavens in me?
From my deepest depths, black with no light,
yet where light flourishes unto to Thee.
Can you not hear the horizon near?
Snatching at my lengthy hair,
As though welcoming in my honest fears,
Honoring at my calm despair?
Don’t reach out to me with your sad sad moans,
I’m but a helpless demon ready to be stoned,
Leave me here to chant and cry,
As a secret screaming left to die.
About the Creator
Nightingale
In writing, each letter becomes a symbol, each word a note, and each story the lyrics of a song to be sung to the rose.
More of my work under the pen name Nocturnea at:
www.triaprima.co
—— Nightingale
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