.~◇~.
From the flame to water,
This heart of mine is a strange character.
This time, it is no enterpriser I fell for,
His fatal flaw, or wise wisdom-
Embedded in that non existent initiative.
The nuances of weak beliefs
Hopefully hiding the strength of core.
And what if this new infatuation
Is just me falling for a thorny red rose once again,
Another one that would leave me bloody.
Why can't I just stick to sweet rain lilies?
Balancing the weights of my life,
Pondering if taking along with me
just one more trinket,
Could actually demolish this tower of cards.
Nothing can be worse, more wrong,
Than a time like this.
So maybe even if I did find a 'right' piece for me,
The time is wrong anyway.
It's snow in spring,
Not supposed to last longer.
Too beautiful to remain for too long,
Only to melt the moment it touches the petal.
Just like how a castle of cards crumbles,
The moment an entranced traveller enters the entrance.
And isn't it an irony,
That we choose a palace of glass
Than the cottage of warmth..
~◇~
YOU ARE READING
Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
