Pedestals of burning ashes
a symphony of diminutive arches
turning point
holy water
This morning broke with
a watershed of peace
the disillusion
the disenchantment
of my decention
the last time
the last thing
so quiet in the night
the right time
the right song
to hear it , to invite
did you know you saved me
made my life
helped me live
a handwritten note
provocative , rustic
ecstatic utterances
conductive to the atmosphere
blindfolded , ascending, reflecting
at one with
a tempest threshold of mirrors
do we make every journey
with a purpose....
-
Author:
WL (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2017 22:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 42
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.