Dust descends upon my extended palm
And although it means no harm
A sharp coldness is what my sensory organs tell me I should be experiencing
I guess that's why they say to stay away from the awakening
Stay far away from the ashes and keep far from the trees
But I've been under them so long I can't deny it's my serenity
Ye, they ruin everything
But they are my peace and complete my evenings.
Wind touches my brown skin in a soothing kiss
Everyone is gathered under the trees and their bliss
It was the horn that brought us here
But most of us we were not willing volunteers
The altos came so symbolically
Their tune effortlessly and hypnotically
They grasped our bodies in time for the ritual
Showing us a world that is truly mythical
Our souls rip apart and it breaks down our barriers
They surge and fight to find new carriers
We must sing and do it authentically
If they like our song they would leave us completely
Amateurs tend to lose theirs
Their souls are snatched without care
They leave quickly and emit amber light spears
That envelop us from head to toe like mean stares
Eventually the light disappears
Every summer they reappear
To choose a fresh dreamer
Then diminish into ashes in any demeanor
I will return to sing for my brothers and sisters
Hopefully next time they choose me as a willing contester
ESTÁ A LER
Peculiar Stories and poems
ParanormalMy intention is not to scare you. Simply, for you to experience a twist in the reality we know as species. A reality that may seem fake but is still real to others. The following short stories and poems are somewhat dark and enlightening. I do hope...
