Allowing The Sword To Sever (By Mimi C Mata) Poem by Mimi Mata

The light would not,
Fight for the deepest root,

As the scent of my wooden soul,
Searched out longingly,
To subdue your steel...

The smell of my perfume,
Will never be recognizable,
Amongst others...

Remember this; do not ever forget.

That the will of our darkest hours
Promised never to evade into the hearts of 'others'

And the stars play with the angels of dark,
Our oblivion wishing upon them...

That teasing flicker,
'Oh' that teasing flicker,

Shines on the knight,
Whose wings bleed beneath,
What he wears; that is not of wood,

Unlike that of my splintered being...

He hides his wings,
For to love her,
Is allowing the sword to sever,

For only in her inferno will you find her,
Her saddened soul 'alive' in her 'dying'...

To die for what he wished
Inside the woman child.