The 8th

A free verse poem I jotted down the other day. SO naturally no rhyme scheme or anything tecnicial writing. It hasn't been edited or anything so don't expect anything too great.

It was like touching grass for the first time
When I glanced into your eyes that night.
The beauty and the power oberseved that day
Afeared me to seach the corners of my lost soul
And unlock
What was festering in them
As I discovered
A marvel in plain sight.
Something always right before my eyes.
A conumdrum presented by this realistic madness
Brimming my mind with contradictions.
Joy. Hatred. Fury. Concern.
Fingers that danced with me so many times,
With hands met swiftly likes a baby's first breath.
Gasping as I shed my old, bruised skin,
I panicked.
I faltered. Confusingly,
swept away by a world always possible to access
But had never before witnessed.
To selfish. Never willing to consider, to touch.
A whirlwind around me with only one guide.
Reluctant to by led as the dancers glided across the floor.
Frightened by a vibrant realm.
Hesitant irises to refract light.
An angel too comfortable in dark alleys,
Like a vampire stepping out in to day.
A savior of the fallen standing in the sun.
Despite the snowflakes and sallow skin,
Heat rained out and the sun smiled
Down on a creature who lived in the dirt.
And for the first time in many months,
I saw the sky again.
A sky of green.

-The Swan Queen

MOOD:thoughtful
SONG: She is the Sunlight by Trading Yesterday