– where does my poetry come from?
when you have come to me here,
asking from where does poetry arrive,
i shall have you this known,
it's from the threads of a silk woven robe worn by a queen,
it's from the one who plays a flute up high from the mountains coveted in snow,
it's from the war screams of a king,
it's from the flames of a fire lit up for celebration,
it's from those meadows of spring that i dreamt myself in,
it's from that pond where kofi fishes swim,
it's through the icy flakes of winter,
it's from the kingdom of my mind where i am the empress to my words of wisdom,
it's from those dark dungeons hiding vicious secrets within,
it's from a heartbreak i never experienced or lived in,
it's from castles nestled in the skies,
it's from everywhere and nowhere at once,
it's from a no one like me to an everyone like you.
YOU ARE READING
swevens of vernorexia
Poetryi shall bloom flowers of love in your heart, so you may bleed petals for blood when i leave.
