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If truth had a colour
In this kingdom
of fragmented gates,
I'm frustrated in being
chained in a glass mansion.
The world is trying
to change me,
forsaking my
'chess of life' into ruins.
I yearn to soar like an
unconfined eagle,
but my talons are like
frozen footsteps on glaciers.
My heart used to
illuminate like the
northern lights,
like a perfect portrait
of a poetic sunset.
Now the unkind mind
of humankind attempts
to mould me,
tormenting the claws
of my tiger spirit.
Upon a path of
nomadic illusions,
spiritual delusions,
struggle to salvage sunrise,
when the horizons are a
blanket of black.
Crooning clouds
resemble melancholic tones,
when twilight bleeds in
burgundy blood clots.
I see seas of sorrow
with an unstoppable ending,
when Satan's sighs summon
a history of hurt.
His garnet eyes
feel like thorns in
peacock feathers,
silencing sentiments
into a voiceless cocoon,
spiralling spicing moments
into solitude, so I summon
my Goddess of Thunder.
The enigmatic voice
of my queen of the night,
resonates in calming
flawless frequencies.
Like art from
abstracts of an architect,
we bathe in my
pool of sentimental stars,
delicately dressed
in dancing dandelions.
Each petal sparkling
in a lake of rose quartz,
under a moon affair
of astral rain-dreams.
If truth had a colour
it would be her chocolate eyes.
Her celestial nature tells
me heaven can wait.
No longer is my
concrete onyx heart on fire,
as it glows like a
trillion golden dragonflies.
Copyright ©
Silent One
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