Your lips are but softer tones of the horizon,
as sweetened brushes of berry pink;
and the your eyes, as hollowed suns
just pools of an empty reflection,
imprisoned in a starry stare
as a soul eclipsed, now came to view
unyielding its midnight cloak,
in this undying eve of metaphors,
when the song is your lie
and romance is my petty stance.
The wilder children of my birth,
nestled this cage an abode,
feeding of littered poet's paper
that burned unheard in it's nascency,
such young thoughts
burned under effort's
echoless crevice,
so the fruit is discarded
and the bird cannot be freed.
Criticism Is Very Much Welcomed -- I Am Here To Learn
Comments
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This is very thick with metaphor, a little too much I think. My best suggestion is to tone that down a bit, but I really love those last two lines. They're perfect. Unfortunately though, I'm deleting the contest as I have been unhappy with the entries as a whole. But good luck with your future writing.
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