Broken Language - Poem by jodde taylor
the mild night
gather spirits of stars.
fill the air
early rising stratospheres,
condensed into emotional navigation.
Eyes holding transparent eclipses,
find moments of capture
ever changing, how far we see
across thresholds, of free thought.
Evolving in essence,
we trial our own existence
tumbling, with the touch of a hand
reaching further for bravery,
play hypnotic infusion
transpiring broken language
rains of doubt, never flood,
a deep residing ocean.
breezes sweep across,
our changing lives
condensing each hour,
we spoke in refined destinations
our shadow, followed moving tides.
Diving, without isolation
a river flowing, intertwined
broken barriers, minutes waiting
sheltering beneath rains of uncertainty
we strive to rise again.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You