She is to me
What the wind
Is to rain -
How she moves me,
Together,
We take the world
By a storm.
She may treat me gently,
She might
Grow rough with passion,
But she will never
Leave me behind:
My darling, how she gathers
Every last fragment, droplet,
Of me;
How modestly
She carries me, pretending that
It is easy,
That she is not stronger than
That delicate frame lets on.
Invisible,
It seems like
I am the driving force,
I am the strength,
The discipline and dedication,
The storm,
And yet she is
The gale-force winds
Pushing me onward,
Ever forward.
We are, together,
The storm,
But she is truly the
Driving force,
The strength,
The dedication, the discipline -
She is what
The world sees in me,
And yet
She's so much more;
Everything
Beautiful in this world
And the next,
She inspires
Warm nostalgia, and yet
There is always
Something intriguing,
Something new.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoesíaSo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
