I saw the flames in your eyes,
Then I saw the fear you try to hide.
It was right there I realised
We are birds of same feather.
The scars are the shiny medals, a proud decoration of glorious reminiscence.
They said of the past, tell tales of exciting days,
showing off how you have survived victoriously, a warrior.
Oh proud, glorious, colourful, they seemed to shout.
Be that as it may,
Beautiful, but rueful withal.
The scars are the constant reminders,
When the fire burn like dancing chords, when you couldn't take your eyes off that twinkle in her eye,
as the comforting warm draws you in.
And you take a step near the bright, bright flames ahead, almost there,
The scars suddenly come to life.
Any nearer, they say
Not a whisper, more a cry,
Careful, careful
The flames burn, and scorched
Remember, my dear friend,
How was the pain?
Will you like that again?
But as afraid as we were
It didn't stop us from furnishing those flames day by day.
YOU ARE READING
Dusk to Dawn
RomanceNarrative poetry of a bitter sweet romance - much is said in little. Some people's love started sweet Some people's love started tough Some love turns into a fairytale Some love turns into a lesson learnt ~Better to have loved and lost~ Enjoy thi...
