return of the butterflies
My muse is a poetic
flower garden,
blooming lilacs in
barren meadows,
but I still remember
how I heeded
haunting heartbeats
in paradise,
whilst praying
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto
my hazy horizons.
Your eyes like
captivating sunsets,
made me dream away,
recalling shells
lost in a forgotten
coral reef,
castaway upon
an elusive island,
where the paths
have no name,
but the oceanic breeze
calls yours so softly.
I was killing time,
scribbling elegies
on distant musical shores,
where spotted eagle rays
and flying fish were
my only mentors.
Nocturnal reef
sharks unfolded tales
beneath lonesome skies,
illustrating a
secretive stairway
that would lead me
to the scintillating stars.
Deep within my heart,
I knew
in the darkest
night you are the light
that would illuminate
my breathless sighs
with blazing ballads
rewriting my fate,
reawakening my
need to thrive through
these endless
melancholic monsoons;
surfing through
vast oceans.
Your cosmic
radiance pulled
this chocolate mermaid,
from the bioluminescent
ripples of sorrow,
empathising with
endless streams from
my volcanic mind
and harmonious heart,
which was in dire
need of healing,
from draconian
depleted ideologies
imprinted within
a labyrinth
of narcissistic daffodils,
emanating deceptive
fragrances
resembling the
devil's disciple,
claiming me
as nothing,
but a mere self
confessed queen
on a conquest
to conquer
the uncontrollable
calling to a land
of virtual hypocrisy.
If only they knew
I no longer desired
to rule
a kingdom of
tumultuous pretense.
I was waiting for the
return of the butterflies,
tearing apart the
fragile walls of its cocoon.
I knew if Romeo
did not die,
I would be living
Juliet's desires.
I was a poetess
searching for
a purpose,
with no sense
to shelter,
watching the
last icicle
of winter melt away.
Truth deserves a
narrative that
has no ending,
though I question
the universe.
Where do the
lost poets reside?
Is it where the
moon chooses
to hide,
disguising dreariness
within dazzling
blankets of
dancing moonscapes,
or will this be how
this sleepless soul
seizes its faultless
lunar tide?
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