The string of a gentle harp
Pattering on dead grass
An ocean-like rumble
That cuts open the clouds
And stars pour their light
Until it can strike the ground
Electrifying the sky
It's the nights where
Stories are made
Dreams are forgotten
In the mud that
Splatters on your boots
And in the windows
That crash open
Letting in a gentle storm
Of windy redemption
The air is harsh
With a thousand
Damp rainbows
To grasp onto tightly
When tidal waves
Shove you down
Beneath the sweet earth
A lone golden hope
Glittering, sparkling, nurturing
It turns over dirt
And plants life neatly
So that green
Can grow out of starched ash
Where the world was
Scorched by evil
The rain brings it back again
As if it all were alive
The ground and the sky
Where strange creatures
Peer at this peculiar cycle
Of death and then life
Only to be pounded back down
Soft clay on a paint-splattered table
They watch and watch
As the earth turns 'round and 'round
And thunder peels the sky open
To allow a glimpse
into the natural fantastical
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Fantastical Confusion
Poetry"The most important thing, darling, is to live a fabulous life. As long as it's fabulous, I don't care how long it is." - Freddie Mercury Art, madness and poetry--whatever more could you need? Highest Rankings: #1 in poetry #1 in midnight thoughts #...
