Often time and again,
when the darkness of night dwells,
during the pitter patter of the rain,
with the muddy soil and the earthly smells,
I recollect the whispers calling me insane.
They call my aloofness a shield,
like an impenetrable fortress,
the ramparts resembling the scars healed,
and my thoughts, so calm before the mess,
but the pages a reflection of the words killed.
This exact moment in history,
will celebrate my triumph and victory,
the second my demons were banished,
and thus the darkness vanished.
The prisoned letters now escape,
the wind flying it, its cape,
now people read and see and think,
but not a tear does one's eye blink.
They still blame by mysterious personality,
never understanding the secretive quality,
However I swear my secrecy,
words will overcome people's dormancy
and shed their momentary transiency,
to live for the forever eternity.
-
Author:
Crystal moon (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 29th, 2025 00:34
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Soman Ragavan
Offline)
Comments2
A very beautiful write again, you have a wonderful way with words
Thank you that means a lot!
You are very welcome
We all dream, hope, wish, desire, eternity and here it is put into words.
Exactly. Good to know people read it the way it is meant to be read.
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