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opaque dreams
O beautiful night
your black wings
extinguish the light
cloak me in darkness
paint my face in shade
for I am a shadow to life
existing on ash and soot
I am sustained in a void
covered in mother earth
my mask of horror is hidden,
but a full moon unveils my face
and the pall of depression bows
the ebony trail I shred
withdraws from inner light,
I shall subsist in shadows
until silence rules no more
Style / type:
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage:
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.
Comments
Frenchf
Sat, 2013-04-20 17:23
This has a religious flavour to it
As it meant to. It would do well for a prayer!interesting
Seren
Thu, 2013-04-25 07:06
Thanks French
I guess it does have a religious flavour thanks for the read and your thoughts
hugs JC
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Josephus
Thu, 2013-04-25 07:23
Jayne, my wise friend
For all its darkness there is a strain of comfort in this, Jayne. As I read this I find myself thinking of a tulip bulb in warm moist earth waiting to sprout new life. Waiting "until silence rules no more"
sincerely,
Joe
My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.
Seren
Wed, 2013-05-15 09:44
Joe
Thanks for your thoughts and time, I am very happy you liked it
sincerely Jayne-Chloe
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Ian.T
Fri, 2013-04-26 02:52
Jayne
Time to walk in the light it feeds the Spirit, though this write is as usual from you and will show where some go.
It is a shame that there is not more communication between people that need just someone there to hold the light for them, Yours Ian.Tx
.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..
Seren
Wed, 2013-05-15 09:46
Ian
Just needing someone to hold the light for them, beautifully sad and said hugs
love always JC xxx
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats