Epistles for my thorned metaphors

aurifryng poetry, my saviour

have you ever asked yourself why you became a voiceless lass that hard to decipher? have you ever have restless nights because of the excruciating unsaid thoughts cause you agonizing pain because of its perilous thorns? and lastly have you ever feel being saved?

poetry cradled its words betwixt my whole being. swallowed my whole system and i，became part of those voiceless lass spitting words arduous to decipher. my world was once filled with pure black and ebony, now it is evanescent; but when poetry came, 'twas like i have finally found my lost voice i was looking for years, making me rhapsodic. my empty hands are now full of enthralling metaphors that a-few of earthlings can only undertand what's beneath in its depth.

... and lastly had you ever feel being saved?

i. yes. poetry did save me from being drowned on sea-girt with stygian thoughts. i've been finding the map of poetry; but then here it is， embracing me with a secured gird copper bangles on my waist.

ii. the aroma of poetry is giving me sweet comforts. it was like a perfume of lotus that i was longing for. the aroma that i ached in the morning. a brewed scent with no mystery.

iii. my abode is now filled with freshly baked poetries and sweet-flavored drink and honeyed brew metaphors. the poetries succulence making me coruscate. i am no longer withered with unsaid thoughts kept on lurking on my mind every single day that made me child of dusk.

i am no longer going back to my last flaxen sunset that rend me nocuously. i am no longer going back to what puts me in dolour state.

"i am no damsel in distress; but i am saved."