Nightmare
“I don't paint dreams or nightmares, I paint my own reality.”
Frida Kahlo“
In the absence of love,
a childhood is shaped by the stars,
but when black smoke is the only impression in the light,
sorrows peel in soundless motions - slow burning.
When fate is sealed with a goodbye,
in an 'all I never asked for' moment,
the weight of fear appears as a niggling nightmare
in our personal book of dreams,
so we drift into an abyss of discarded destinies -
untamed we roam into a wildfire of lost souls.
I'm a silent knight unable
to suppress this wandering muse,
so I portray my darkness through rosewater ink,
which flows like a scarlet oasis of waterfalls,
merging into sapphire oceans of poetic heartbeats.
I blame my past for this saviour complex,
but battling demons has become my beautiful undoing.
Ugliness of sugar coated words,
hidden behind metaphorical daggers,
has engraved scars with unhealed wounds,
leading me upon a path resenting sealed emotions.
When nostalgic rain sings in sea shell whispers,
I wish I could hold the sun in my arms,
to stop me from pouring
in melancholic bleeding moonlight,
but my beloved's eyes resemble dandelion reveries,
reminding me of a fragrant bouquet of memories,
pleading to personify her in
petrichor perfumed poems.
Her scent resurrects my muse to life..
She always says:
"Never mind the moon, it's only a reminder of forgotten midnight promises."
How her heart is an island where my waves will eternally kiss her shores.
A sanctuary for my inner child to forever build sandcastles."
My destiny leads to the end of a rainbow,
which rests upon the ivory sands of her treasure -
where internal flames become calm.
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