Knowing soul found sanctuary behind the carapace,
where spirit could then spiral and mind be vapour made,
that honeysuckle sweetness like rain eternal drums,
and in the year becoming, the eggshells crack as one.

Roots of hope are searching deep as demons hover high,
and spin on teasing wings of fear as chrysalis does sigh,
and waits to birth eternally, like sea-foam soaring forth;
the witches suck life’s hookah, that iridescent torch.

Angels hover, sifting truth in robes of vibrant blue,
their gowns cathedral curvature, votives offered true,
in filaments of meaning, as stoic purpose looms,
soul  does now find fortune, breaking from cocoon.

Inky hell will nurture long, conceiving in dark light,
nightmares of pure tangles, the bloody stripes of fright,
like brightly painted geisha, in kimono pursing lips,
so is the bloom of passion, in Self so surely lit.

 sanctuary, soul, knowing
spiral, vapor, carapace
honeysuckle, rain, year
eggshells, drums, demons
roots, chrysalis, wings
seafoam, hookah, witches
angels, blue, truth
: curvature, cathedral, votives
: filament, cocoon, stoic
fortune, inky, nurture
nightmares, kimono, geisha
tangles, bloom, stripes


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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