In a dream- I see her dance,
Though motion blurs the vision,
A simple room- no door and key-
To open from within,
Quietly I sit and stare,
I cannot help but wanting,
Linen white residing there-
Upon her velvet skin.
Burn away in fires wrath,
And rise up with the wind.
Though motion blurs the vision,
A simple room- no door and key-
To open from within,
Quietly I sit and stare,
I cannot help but wanting,
Linen white residing there-
Upon her velvet skin.
Burn away in fires wrath,
And rise up with the wind.
I do not know why, but this poem holds some deep significance for me... I keep being drawn back to it and I read it over and over again feeling some strange connection to the words.
ReplyDeleteI did not have a reason for writing it, I just wrote whatever came into my head... but it makes me wonder if something in my deep subconscious was expressed through my pen?