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My genius sleeps in eastern seas
Among the lights forgotten black,
And waits for me to call the stars,
And waits for me to call her back.
She sleeps alone, as do we all,
In confines of austerity,
And waits upon the grey visage
We present to posterity.
The northern lights traverse her soul
As minds shall still refuse to do-
They sit on thrones of lonliness
They sever sharply "me" and "you".
The seas, the unforgiving seas
That bury her in crushing dark-
They grow in rains of pregnant thoughts
That mitigate our divine spark.
So should I ever want her back
I'll know to grapple in the black.
©2009-2010 ~eleical
:iconeleical:

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How can we ever explain ourselves?

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:iconlovehealsyou725:
I very much like this.

--
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep...
And miles to go before I sleep
-Robert Frost
:iconeleical:
Thank you :)

--
"May it be you journey on to light the day..."
:icondogseatcars:
they still ask, and the resounding no
tortoised, with an iron sided mind
always carrying fire arms in toe
agrehost and never bind
give them the wrong answer, never know
:iconeleical:
Only you would write me a poem in response :)
I enjoyed it immensely.

--
"May it be you journey on to light the day..."

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September 24, 2009
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