Ballad Of Constellation

A haze which diminishes as soon as it reaches the mist,

Like fleeting doubts, vanishing when touched by the truth.

A flare ignites, ablaze with bloom,

A fleeting passion that rises, then dissipates into the air.

Wings once admired now the cause of my loathing,

They carry the weight of regret, dragging me down.

A crass look with certain affix envelops the blue and green,

Turning purity into something stained, twisted by perception.

Enchantment of protection lifts the seal of the ballad,

Revealing the song of pain and redemption beneath.

I stand behind the fog of prism,

The world distorted, hidden from clarity, trapped in illusion.

A blink for a second leaves a scar full of nightmares,

The weight of time, etched into the soul, haunting the quiet.

Withstanding the dark with a glimmer of gold,

A fragile hope shining through the shadows, faint but bold.

Rosy layers with sweet enchantment,

One can't describe the entrances to a world unknown.

The blush of wind and serene of lake,

Forgiving the redemption within the being, a soft, silent grace.

Waiting for the clock to turn the wheel,

Knowing the length that the being has woven,

With certain exclamations into the poetry song of poets,

With redemption whispered softly, bringing hope anew.

Having the protection of the hue,

Making the unknown shiver with harm,

A force unseen, yet ever-present,

Guarding the soul from deeper scars.

The being, knowing whom protection was,

Having lifelong regret for not saying goodbye,

With tears falling from both eyes,

A sorrow that time could never erase.

Spirits blow the wind to guide the being,

Towards the end where the journey concludes,

Having the ballad of constellations,

A final song written in the stars, forever illuminating the soul's path.