In the Realm of Silver Linings
" Perhaps, life is just a disaster
wrapped in fairy-glow fragments ~
shimmering with stars of death... "
O' beloved moment of time,
take me where I belong,
in the henna haze of scentless leaves
draped in doves of lotus,
I'll whimsically walk in your vivacious veins...
I am d r o w n i n g
O' dear foe of faith,
let me float beneath the shadow ~
where phoenix meadows
don't yet reap of poisonous pixies...
I am d i v i n g
O' my ivy moonrise,
perhaps, I'm a torn feather
oscillating in the notes of sirens and sealust ~
aching to be an archangelic snare
and dying to blossom in the devil's care...
O' champagne tendrils of vineyard,
I'll be the ruffle of a rippling rose
wrinkled by winter,
cradled in a roulette of remorse ~
I am f a d i n g...
When the mist of tears
waltzes in the eyes
and there's nothing more
for the muted thunders to conceal,
I hope to swathe myself
in the charcoal lake of lightening ~
that pierces those midnight moonflowers,
and their wavering murmurs
breathe merciless secrets
across pearl-ivory patterns,
where the Satan once painted his grief...
For, I nevermore wished to be
a scarecrow studded with obsidians,
midst treacherous tunes of tulips ~
that feigned to be
the most eloquent facade of fuchsia frantics,
stung by sly honeybees
in the cape of saviours.
Maybe, my words have
engraved me as a mythical alphabet,
across the alabaster rain of sunsets ~
as I no longer feel caressed
by the songs of seashells,
that once scribbled sagas of twinkling trust
upon marigold sands.
I ache for the aerial cosmic dust
to soak in my lungs
and filter me with orchid fragrances ~
which had abandoned
the aurelian aroma of budding butterflies
from flying to the sun in my heart...
Seasoned by haunted honeysuckles,
I try to fathom,
if everything is separated from the end
by a fickle yarn of golden eclipse ~
that yearns to tangle
in heather hallucinations of happiness.
In the realm of silver linings,
can I be a long lost labyrinth
forsaken by Eurydice,
where sorcery shapes me
as the bloodthirst of Orpheus' stars... ?
Clenching on the clandestine heatwaves
of yesteryear longings,
I am swelled up
with a million unseen moons ~
swirling within the periwinkle fog of fireflies.
Nevertheless,
there I surf...
as the last sailor of memories,
b r e a t h i n g in
that forlorn ode of sapphires,
which got lost in the salts of time...
Copyright © Hiya Sharma | Year Posted 2024
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