By the cold light of the stars,
In the shadow of the moon,
Amid delicate shivers,
A hero's shield gleams.
Dense are the flames of the faltering fire,
Tender, the caress of the long lost lover,
Dreams of Andromeda beckon to me,
But hark as he strays from the ether, far, far, into Orion's heart.
Silver wishes hung from his limbs,
Swinging to the music of the spheres,
Crystalline tears cast shadows,
Stain glass constellations transcend the blue river.
In the fluorescent kingdom of Diana,
Where the northern lights guide pariahs,
Resides the astral choir, accompanying Hypnos' curse,
We lie under the star knit blue quilt, the centre of balance.
I long to wrap my fragile mortality in the moonlight,
Opposing forces caught in the eye of the tempest,
Receding into a dream like whisper,
Of supernovas and nebulas.
To keep until every star perishes,
Outlines stitched from alluring illusions unravelling,
Goodnight my love, goodnight,
The night sky is the place where I begin.
YOU ARE READING
Yellow Paint
Poetry"Yellow Paint" is a collection of my experiences with the turbulence of everyday teenage life in the form of poetry, random thoughts and rants. The name comes from a rumour involving Van Gogh, which says that he used to eat yellow paint because he...
