There are a thousand eyes that watch this land, and they can vary in color and determination... but the rarest color is wisdom. It tastes a tad like pain and holds the echos of a past spent wishing without hope... but the resolve to keep moving anyhow. It takes a lot to walk into a room heart first, knowing that is where the arrows aim, but this wisdom, it is armor, and those eyes can see a heart break for miles. But wisdom is not born from pain alone, for a thousand sweet summers spent laughing into the night air and watching the lightning bugs dance into the warm arms of the grass... but wisdom sees past these base emotions and knows that the short life of these night flies is made all the merrier for it's beautiful ignorance spent flaming into the night a message of desire... of love... of calm. There are many thousands of eyes that watch these lightning bugs... but only so many with the colors of wisdom.
YOU ARE READING
Floating
Thơ caI've collected a lot of works I have made for me and thrown them into a mess of empathic poetry I have done for others.
