Stardust and Ash
A chiaroscuro of hearts flitting around tunnels of tenebrism.
We were both lost souls
that weren’t supposed to cross paths,
like they do in the movies.
For we broke each other creatively,
but perceived it as healing
our fragmentary spirits.
Oh how painful but artistic
is the dawn of epiphany.
We both experienced rain and thunder,
yet one of us chose to stay behind closed doors,
and drown in puddles of nostalgia,
while the other stood under sheets of rain,
to drink in the iridescent puddles,
that graced their desolate aura.
Alas, we drowned,
in a cornucopia of despair.
For we failed to decipher our discordance, so profound.
We shared the same heart
with scars that healed differently.
One had an erratic beat that crumbled walls,
around fortresses of steel,
while the other was a tarnished chain,
that bound fortresses which rose like flames, so tall.
Oh skies above,
have you ever witnessed flames of silver and gold?
I wondered,
if love were like in the books, would we still write poetry?
For I found poetry when love threw me off a ledge,
and told me to fly, with broken wings.
But love also caught me, before I collided with the earth,
and helped me to forge wings of stars and lead.
Blue feathers with edges of grey,
bore the opalescence of treasures,
hidden within the sea; far far away.
Oh befuddled heart,
our vessels were one,
while our souls, were oceans apart.
