A Chasm of Infinite Concept
What if I told you about the stories in my head?
The ones where my ideas dance on the very top of the clouds
Where the shrouds of mist and the roses are instead.
Of the world that asphixiates me, but, am forced to endow?
I take solace in a dream where the thorns do not tear,
And a promise that I am streaming from in to insane
Am I dreaming of unveiling the mask I continue to wear?
Or is it the feeling of wanting to let go of my disdain?
Or the healing of my longing and it’s sorrow, conte acrimmonieux?
And as I weep for the worlds in which we’ve never met
I’ll leap for the author that is me, deem me romeo For when I seek an apologue of my story, my Juliet
I’ll gaze upon the cheek of creation when you find
The glory that I bathe in when I captivate your mind.
Copyright © Briyelle Short | Year Posted 2023
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