Your long, brown, dizzy hair.
Has no place for any such wicked dispair.
Never call upon the ones who forsake you.
They have none the fiercer flames to walk through.
Dance little dancer, and see the elaborate light
dance with you. Call to the ones who will heal
your tolerant hazing heart.
Because you can never seek refuge
without going back to the start. It's not ample.
They might trample, and scheme your beautiful dreams.
And it's possible little dancer, to cast a spell,
and transfer, their potent rage as
you deny them and turn the page.
Your beauty surrounds you well.
As you walk down these halls.
My heart flutters and falls to the ground.
With all resounding, still pounding.
If not I have had just enough to know your name.
To call upon your fiercer flame. That brightest glance.
The upheaval,
a sudden evil,
Wouldn't,
No,
It couldn't,
take that heaven from your eyes!
If I die today, tonight.
My spirit will lay at rest ,all fine.
Knowing your name and you knowing mine.
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Seriously, I like the treachery in the emotions of this poem. Good luck.
