the maddening pull of a silent force,
teary eyes filtered amongst the dead ones
and a bottom lip pouring with desired phrases
of a celestial, blue dream of a deep stillness
and a hesitance unlike any other before;
mind you, we wake before we die
for we do not know the fall
of a ballerina on her glistening stage
after days of sweat and blood and tears,
the fall of a scarce apple on a windless day
after a frantic storm searching for a weakling and
the fall of a galaxy caused by the unknown
in the petals of the blooming universe,
does to us once our soul slips past
the realm of the monotone
and sifts through coarse, steel fingers
as though life were bits of forgotten art pieces.
a part of me can understand your different language
but all i here is the echo of a steep mountainside.
read a leather book formally by the spine
yet reading went by like a lightning
when words were backwards.
life is our hands of gold,
for we were made with purity,
but soon later on was added a corruption
to strengthen our souls, our minds, our sacred hearts.
i will not fall under the silent push and pull
of a thousand ancient winds together
because there is no telling
what might happen
if i do let it in.
-valkyrie