Feast thine eyes upon what the
dreamwarden composed for yours truly!!
Chiseled out of eastern stone
With smooth alabaster skin and warm, dark eyes
Raven black wings, sheltering delicate form
Rain falling from those few moments she cries
A dreamer caught inside her imagination
She perches on the hearts of those fallen before her
Beautiful too, but aggressive and wholly unholy
Wishing for someone to truly adore her.
---
To say that this poem is breathtaking would do it an injustice indeed...
My, does talent envelope you, dear. GIFTED, GIFTED creature... I'm satisfied with my pieces only until I read others work, then I feel pale in comparison to. But, then, we often critique our own art more meticulously then our avid readers. And I only scribble when I'm sorrowful...bleeding my pain, I presume. I think some of my best art evolves when I'm undergoing emotional turmoil...I thrive creatively when I'm melancoly...
What was it Wordsworth said?!
AH-HA!
He defined poetry as a 'spontaneous overflow of POWERFUL emotions."
Intriguing. My thoughts exactly...
I feel adored...and wuvved...
Farewell then,
~~~BAT~~~