A wildflower bound to the force of nature
You are the lily that blooms in the spring
And the one that lays in a bed of thorns
A rose that is crescent to the full white moon
Your scarlet petals that stem in the night has become
A crimson beacon of inferno lust
Therefore, Idol I am to your elegance
And to your violet essence that showers in the rain.
For the irises of my eyes that stare
Are insnared within the sight of a blooming Iris
Without hesitation I only cultivate to that which flourishes
So that I may elevate pass these seeds of doubt
And within my hands may I sprout a flower
That could be admired throughout the world
Yet, as I sit in these thorns I agonize at an unfulfilled perception of beauty
Wondering…
Where is my formosa flora of inspiration
Where is my inflorescent glimpse of perfection to whom I may immortalize.
~ Tony Paradise’s Poet ~
