The red night glares at me from all around,
From the sky or the malevolent mist at my feet,
And while it may be the sailor's solace
It has never been mine.
Tangles of cords and cords, chords and chords
Of music, are tugging my heart so sweetly,
Leading me blind, back to the origin
Where bruises of violet violence stain me.
I resist in my weak and wavering fashion,
Relying on my iron will to pull me through,
But the maroon miasma takes me under
To its euphonious residence.
Senselessly I sing, for no one but myself,
Plucking an ancient memory of melancholy.
My tears fall, but you are there to catch them
Before they break the ground...
You are there to brush my cheeks
With a gentleness only found in dreams.
And then I know
It's okay...
I'll wake up.
Author notes
Eh, this didn't turn out so great. Oh well.
A contest entry
- Comfort by Rainbowchaser.
700 points, ended April 8, 2009, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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You paint a very strong picture with your words. I found it slightly disquieting until the end, when you turn it around beautifully with the final stanza. The comfort you must draw from knowing this person with their tenderness is there for you. Thanks for entering.
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aawwww it's so good. i really like it a lot, especially how it took different forms but it all sorta revolved around the same mood. the end was really cool
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