the bird and the sky

i don’t know the way of the sky

i am a bird of the wind

feel the brush on my skin,

my quill feather may fail

 

a canvas of white spreads,

above the clouds,

a worthiness to live,

a worthiness to die

 

a penny tossed from the sky

from birth to death,

the faces of gods

and the hope to live the heavens

 

 

 

 

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her heart belongs

it is beautiful in the skies

above the clouds where a bed of white spreads

sometimes she wonders,

if her wings would stretch forever

and even then,

the stars were just too far

a little close,

but their twinkles were still faint

and so she returned

back into her little cage

the falling bricks and the rusty roof

turning to dust,

the memories of a young blood,

an ancient spirit,

returning to the skies,

where her heart belongs

 

 

 

Another moon (sherry redo)

Guns and boots
Snapping dry wood beneath
Howls of the hounds
The chorus of their blood lust

My heart to kill
A maddening thirst
That devious maiden
But another to reminisce

I write to God
And all my appeals in vain
For I am a monster too
One to be butchered in the dark

With another moon to seek,
The true lines of her light of her orb
But the hounds draw in close
And I am certain of my demise

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