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.
simply a brilliant piece bedecking with imagery, as when wrouht ingenious, well penned,10+, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mimi - deeply expressed and felt.