Thursday, September 24, 2009

Poetry Year September 23

As bitter an edge as ever cut my skin,
stinging as sliced through the fragile shell that I am within,
the truth now bleeds me,
I feel, I feel my soul escape with the droplets blood,
out into the air.

Into the air the faerie touch,
into the air winged alight.
away, away, my fancy flickers.
My eyelids flutter,
I am away away.

Away from the burdens and cares,
Away from the pretentions and airs.
Away from the pallor and pain,
Away from the storms and the rain.

Spirit taken to fluid flight,
looketh down upon the bustle and bright,
into the homes and hives and hovels,
into the rooms, and rust, and ruins,
upon the bright lips flush with passions,
still florid with life.

Alight, look back my soul upon a body pail,
that has found this moment, to finally fail,
and smiles sweet and serene at last,
now that the arrows of fate, are finally past.

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