Her wings never did like the snug fit of his restraints, Her voice never liked the silence, Her eyes shone even in the darkness and rock bottom only ever proved to be a springboard But still, lost in the constant of white noise, even a phoenix tires with age…
144,000 lights all flickering
to the beat of another’s purpose.
Lighting the dark corners of ego,
dispersing yesteryears fear
cleansing the broken and
healing the scarred. It is their
purpose. Born to give light in a
world of shadows.
Clarity of thought awareness
purpose swarms in their essence.
I have been purpose, time and time
again I have lit the shadowed path
of the lost and wounded, patched
together the ashes of their
hearts burned and souls scorched.
Sometimes at twilight, myself and Selene,
I ask her does she know, will my purpose
always be so. Her response the same night after dark after night. Her whisper
the silent pearl droplets of love she kisses
upon my skin as she sings a twilight lullaby. Yet, never do I hear her answer.
144,000 lights switched on, each a designed purpose, vessal of aid, beacons
illuminating the way through the darkness that has become us. Unconditional love…but who will love them in return.
Consuming and all drowning
my essence of night.
it matters not,
my essence is cloaked
in this state, this void.
Think not of my night
and my aura as negative for a dark state can be a canvas.
A blank page for
to create. . .something
bright to form
my nights’ sky
and give it character.
and make it come alive.
Yet it should consume me.
Darkness such as the night sky
should devour me, swallowing
my essence into oblivion. Do you see me?
I am a mere whisper
of light lost in the echos of time. Yet,
when you lay me upon
your dark essence, your canvas becomes my art.
Your depth is my contrast.
I tip toe through your darkest blues
leaving illuminated kisses.
My essence, glimmers and glistens
upon your touch, for my light. . .
is love, created by your darkness.