The skies
They are one that have and always will
remain the same
Forever.
Different hues of blue
on those bright blissful days.
Dark days will be faced as well,
and those same shades of tragic gray will be there to warn us.
Varied figures of clouds may stroll across the sea
of blue plentiful amounts of the time.
As the children at heart
may seek out bunnies and dragons among them.
Deep during the fright of the night
our skies are sprayed with a vicious purple haze
Giving us a deep contrast in which we may see the snarling teeth
of the heavens.
Sunsets will come as moons will follow,
and we can raise our faces to a vast plane of: orange, pink, and yellow;
Like a young child thrashing at a canvas with his first set of paints;
Fading into the blue.
We may even catch a glance of beauty from the Bright One
rising and falling, carrying with her the tides of the ocean...
The yellow sand she wraps around her waist, it lay at the horizon.
The water following the sand, eating it away.
Our skies, will always be the guide.
It awaits our coming,
after this life of ours has passed.
For now, keep it in your sights.
And when you have felt that you are done here,
take to the skies.
YOU ARE READING
Hospital For Souls
PoetryWe've all ran into obstacles along the this road titled "life" that have knocked us down. Left us with little or no hope. I think I can say we've all come to points in which we question what we have worth living for, anyways? Well we all have differ...
