Cold as a marble statue,
Just as empty inside.
My heart held a funeral; a graveyard inside.
I became the Anesthetic, though with a sense of peace inside.
Until petals flourished into flowers
And temptuous waters - once anarchic - became still.
The lulled quietude.
I waited...
And waited...
Upon the quiet, empty sea.
The clouds above me cracked open --
A splitting, thin vein,
It frizzled.
Striking a spark of whiteness,
Violet glowing neon light --
Growing like roots.
The clouds did not burst;
The sky split right apart, in the centre, and the thunderous groan roared with life;
Indigo skies
Down-poured.
All sense shut out.
I became nothing, but
a pelting heart.
--- Ink and Wander
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Stoicism - 10th poetry collection
PoetryMy head is a loud galaxy full of pictorial words. This is my 10th poetry collection Poetry collections (written in this order) : 1) Poetry 2) Cathartic 3) Masquerade 4) Compass 5) Reverie 6) Stars Above Me 7) Melodies 8) Caterpillar 9) Musings And...
