The orchard so serene and green,
He heard a canary's sweet sheen.
Its melody danced upon the air,
A serenade,
Beyond compare.
Approaching the song with joy in his heart,
Yet closer he came, it tore apart.
The canary's tune morphed,
Becoming a crow's harsh cry.
In the orchard's embrace, he gazed around,
Searching left and right,
For any beauty to be found.
Discovering an orchid, so delicate it blew his sight.
So pretty, it looked like a source of light.
He bent to inhale its fragrant bloom.
It transformed swiftly, dispelling the gloom,
From orchid's grace,
To corpse flower's dread,
With that, his face turned red.
Turning skyward, he sought solace there,
But as he reached, storm clouds were everywhere,
His hand reached further, and the grey clouds filled the air.
Trembling steps backward,
He fled far away,
Into nowhere.
YOU ARE READING
Eight Billion (and more poetry)
PoetryHis hands cradle his face. Yearning to be alive, Yearning to be alive, "Wrap me close, won't you?" ♧ A collection of my original poems.
