A little girl stood, beneath clouds and dark
Looking at the sky, void of moon and stars
Unrest tears she wept, over a crude arc
Pages turned and twist, left a bunch of scars
Now the young girl is grown, gone are her wounds
Yet they hurt and haunt, deep in flesh and bones
She laughs like the sun, cradled in ugly bounds
But longs a warmth that melts, heart stiff as stones
Oh, my moonlit child, the bravest you are
Weep that elegy, you're safe in my arms
Barefoot in the grass, we can walk afar
Flowers 'bout your bruises, we'll draw like charms
The past is gone beloved, don't be afraid
We're fighters let's fight, this restless nightshade.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Melancholy
PoetryThe ink made of sky Drenches the dusty page Tales that dropped From the clouds in my head. •More Than Ever Blue •The Monsters Who Wore Human Flesh •The Tale of That Time •In Loving Memory of •Void Heart •The Wounded Child •The Fallen Fate •Unlike t...
