Red amber stained.
Crystal clad.
Just for a short time,
This dark grey land,
Claims to be something
It is not.
Emerald shards stab
Shimmering skies.
Slowly bleeding rose.
And just for a short,
Magical time,
This cold hard land
Hints at being something
It is not.
I see blood of endings
And beginnings.
– Nothing in-between.
I see soaring heros and
The cruelest villains.
– Nothing in-between.
I see highest achievements,
And crushing failure.
– Nothing in-between.
I see this all,
And
Yet
I am in-between.
Give no reason.
No plan to execute,
Nor structure to find.
Till timelines shatter
Beneath the lack
Of understanding.
Paths collide, swerve
And smash with random
Regularity.
Give no reason.
For anything at all.
Just let the chaos
Follow at its own
Sporadic will.
The light is blinding.
Harsh and sharp.
My eyes have all
But drifted away.
Dust to burn
In the rays of flame.
The light is binding.
Glowing images
To my mind.
More beautiful than,
More sparkling than,
Anything I could
Have seen before.
Send me all
Your symbols.
Wrapped up
Nice and tight.
Seal them with
A metaphor,
And bind them
In an intricate
Exaggeration.
Sending people
The wrong way
So you can be
Sure, that
No one
Else will see
Through this web
You weave,
To find what
It is that
You are
Signalling
To me.
I love you.
I am sure
I don’t know
What that means.
It’s a very odd thing,
To say something
No one
Can define.
I love you.
I am sure
However,
That when I say it,
I very much
Mean
What it is I’m trying
To say.
.
.
For you SP,x
One day
I will find
The time
Ive lost
The time I
Said I would
Put aside
So many times
To let me do
Those things
I never got
Around to.
Your thoughts
Are too heavy,
For me to carry.
Your words too
Thick with meaning,
For me to swim
Through. So
I stand alone.
With light thoughts
And thin words.
Too weak to
Reach you,
Behind these
Defenses you
Hold so dear.
I am the story.
Each word is
A limb.
The sentence
My spine.
Im covered
In paragraph
Skin.
You read every
Part of me.
Devouring with
Your eyes.
Letter by
Letter.
Page by turned
Page.
Till the end has
Come and I am
Nothing but a
Full
Stop
.
Its little wings,
Softest brown.
Patterned modest
White and grey.
Flutter frantically,
In stop motion flight.
An imperfect
Forever circling of
Its incandescent god.
Then it Started 