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Number 6

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Correspondence shattered,
My festival of symbolism unveiled,
The gaping awareness not as gay without its tinsel,
But as glorious as before.

Cedar fences,
Guiding your night-creatures away from my mind,
Child preserved in velvet.
Recognition lingering in the fire,
My questions without answers as I abandon the spark.

A drunken cry to misery,
Fragment of anguished honesty,
Tarnished.

Voice through the water,
Generic motivation,
Food for the hungry,
For the blind or for the wise.

Crooked stairs leading nowhere
But upward, so I climb.
Fumbling towards my own decisions, though hidden in others,
Phantom, alive, a gift
From my own prosperity.





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VioletHourWaltz said...
Sept. 19, 2011 at 11:26 pm
Wonderful. I felt a wave of emotion crash through my veins reading this. Fantastic visualization with only a few words per line. I love it!
 
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