Feigned Flames
The moon dances
on lonely nights,
to astral beams of
the clear quartz milky way~
I lay in an olive meadow
designed in fragrant
promises,
hidden between thorns
and thistles disguised
as fields of ferns.
Inhaling life, exhaling pain,
as the Universe unravels
a cosmic shadow that
follows hail storms
brewing in my mind.
Whilst Vanilla butterfly
snowflakes swirl
in solitude through dark
December nights,
drizzling shooting stars
upon my poetic heart.
reminding me that
there’s always pastel
colored sunsets waiting
to smear forsaken skies in
feigned wishes and
mistletoe kisses,
that last as long
as inconsistent seasonal
hollow gusts,
thawing glaciers on icy tips
of my fragile fingers,
with fleeting flames
quilting lilac lavenders
into a blanket of happiness.
But weary winds
can pierce
through the strongest
of roots,
and I always knew I was on
my own~
an empress without
an emperor
in an empire of
raging tempests.
Although, nightingales
sing soothing serenades,
oblivious to the sinister
sun that lacks empathy,
enshrouding my
grieving spine
with scorching thick
threads of electric heat,
feeding life above the
emerald waves of time,
there’s no antidote left
in my empty sphere of
familiar faces, with frosty
chivalrous smiles,
I’ve walked through
frozen miles,
cloaked in sparkling silence,
where hopes and faith
died, like ephemeral
colors of northern lights,
within the tilted stage
of my tainted black
and white soul,
releasing a
wounded sigh.
So, don’t question my
invisible wand with
pixie-dust, that
wipes away every murky
cloud, enveloped
in hazy unjust;
I deserve more than
this pantomime of
pretend,
of decayed trust,
where wooded
trees stand empty,
with rosy
lies scribbled in blood,
from envious pens
and sharpened nails,
full of ferocious fire
on forgotten trunks..
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Ink Empress
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