Pink Rose and my Memorial Muse
written by: Jecht Fair
@jechtfair
Pink rose
Glass of tall stature,
Dyed songs illuminated in pink,
Stood within the middle of a vast field,
As the light hits – the entire world shrinks.
The obelisk of life blood,
Red surrounding the base,
In circles of cryptic flood,
Allowed pink rose to rise and hold the skies face.
The fields of green,
For leagues unbound,
Gave warmth to the writings,
Transferred from pink glass to earthly ground.
They sang unending songs,
Of existential verse,
The muses of earth,
Yet the strangest i read was about a star covered box which gave birth.
Pondering the words,
Of which were too many,
I was invaded by roses smell,
Which led me into the depths of the pink spires shell,
And what did i find,
The truth inside my mind…
Memorial muse
Bound by blackened chains,
Which tighten and loosen to contort the face,
In a canvas of emotions,
Her eyes were hidden and covered by white lace.
Held in place,
Puppeteers hold pace,
Tiring her body,
To illuminate human faith.
She could hear words like no other,
Which held her smile in place,
She trusted her captors,
Her only friends without a face.
I tried to talk,
She refused my breath,
I tried to touch,
They held my wearied faith.
But i knew she could see me,
Without her sense of space,
Her smile drowned within something private – real,
Even if her life was perceived to be that of a used fool.
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