ꨄ 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑ꨄ

Blindness

The laughter of sorrow were stitched on me with smiles o'er skies afloat.
The once lustrous skies painted with fresh tints now scorn with eerie flint.
As blooming daisies float away from my heart, there built was sorrow's moat-
My cruise of stars shall glint no more as sightless swallows lay their print
Upon my blinding eyes.

My weary hands had held my dying gleam of sight, soft and dreary,
its flickering lights wilting against the raging storms, cowering,
as the sightless swallows gaunt and dreary, set by my helpless fury-
my lost sight, caused by their talons scouring, its cries towering.
My sight- like the birds' it dies.

My lantern of sight for e'er blazing, like the once young blue swallows,
yet when the gaunt face of winter brings its scythe, it shall shorn and scorn.
By its grasp, once wondrous willows of Spring then wilt and be swallowed.
Of Winter's reign and thorn, will swallows' beauty be loved and adorned?
Or there, the bird limps and dies?

Of the swooping dove and ravishing petals of the myrtles' love;
Skies of voyaging stars, lie the beauty of the Venusian stars-
its pretty prose pulses with love, Beauty rejoices in this land's love,
yet my sight, lost far away, as my wings rot, felt no blazing star
for darkness engulfs, it then dies.

To be for e'er deluged in this bleak sheet of Death's daunting black sheen;
To be enveloped by the haze of blindness and daze of despair,
yet there seems to be a faint gleam of lustre, a distant glaze of moonbeam,
for thy voice be my song, thy love be my wings, my loss shall repair-
for love stitched, my wound then dies.