I have found myself mumbling madness to weeping willows and wallowing waves
That sigh as depressingly as I, when I gaze upon the moon, which bares a baroness
Akin to a soul lost to a void, where there is no God or Light to be known
Yes, I linger in this space pertaining to a lot buried in an infinite misery, echoing a finite vertigo
Caused by the screams whispering from these nephilim revealing angelic tears, ergo
Beauty seems slightly fragmented as I walk within a dystopian land, one parallel to Judaica
For, I am my own emotional villain, thee antagonist who lies solidified among the obsidian and darken alabaster
A sinister aster blooming with broken promises corrupting the stars and the heavens above
A universal tremble so entrance, to the prophecies seen by the pharisees, as he whom is to be thrilled by agony
Although, once upon a time I did however reach for something other than this blighted midnight
But, the leering eyes belonging to my anxiety weighted, thus I became a coward to my own dreams
Therefore, in hollowed eyes I dance restlessly intertwined to the day that wakes as a living nightmare
Still, therein this state regarding sentimental animosity, salvation could reign
I want to believe, truly, beyond this travesty stands a spirit vast in virtue, beholding a heart not of heathen blood
Nor, that which speaks passionately with a false tongue, though rightfully unchained concerning those fallacies
No longer a casualty casually dead along the shores proclaiming that hope sits upon its horizon
Yet, change is an inevitably and a creature like myself fears such things
I hid amidst the shade when facing my own metamorphosis,
A gilded butterfly I could be, except I have grown accustomed to the somberness of my lonesome cocoon
These thoughts that exhilarate liberty, justly frightens me for what waits for me outside of this grotto
Possibly, Joy… perchance, the happiness I seek… sadly I may never know
I will wallow with this willow, I will continue to weep and mumble at the waves of madness that dims what could be
Would someone show me what it means to believe in one’s self, show me all the things I openly forsake,
…Perhaps then, maybe then, will this eclipse find a means to dissipate…perhaps I say…if only I mean
~ Ren’ee Verona – Paradise’s Poet ~
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Si gritas “montaña”, frente a la montaña, el eco te regala una cordillera.
You are like that mountain. Sure. Great poem. Thank you.
2017-09-12 2:46 GMT-05:00 Ren’ee Verona :
> Ren’ee Verona posted: “I have found myself mumbling madness to weeping > willows and wallowing waves That sigh as depressingly as I, when I gaze > upon the moon, which bares a baroness Akin to a soul lost to a void, where > there is no God or Light to be known Yes, I linger in this ” >