La Fleur

Howdy, howdy. I don’t have much to say right now, but I’ve got a heck of a poem for you. It’s been a little while and I appreciate everybody who sticks around to read these. It does mean a lot. Without further ado…

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La Fleur

Beyond me burns a blossom,

beautiful and burgeoning,

blooming and bedeviling;

I see its light in all things right.

~

Therein I find myself at odds

with visions of varying veracity,

and veritable truths of varying capacity;

Visions of flame are burned into my eyes.

~

Into the sky I wander,

ferrying foolishly abreast of foreign fens

while my eyes scream and my legs buckle,

teeth seething at the thought,

as the light drives back into me.

~

I only came to pick a flower,

pretty as it was,

certain was I to endeavor

in an exercise so devilishly dour.

~

Ashen and alone,

addled and afraid,

all in and all out,

I was broken on the peaks of clouds.

~

Still I reach for vaunted halls,

for myths and legends and things yet to make,

as that blossom burns bright behind my eye.