Jul 24 2003
The immaculate pristine
I was tiptoeing through the unfettered forest
when a meek whisper soothed a sound
the voice of a seraphim ushering around.
its eyes pure white, injected with snow,
transfixed on their resonant glow,
he took me under a blanket of light,
shielding my corpse with gods valiant might.
questions with answers before they were spoken,
the fire within me ignited? awoken?
he spoke in tongues, the language of heaven,
draining my actions, my words so malevolent.
he took me by his frosty hand
leading me through the forestland,
an evolution of love previously unknown,
no longer allowing days to pass by alone.
your blood brings life to his form
melting the heart that cradles the storm.
the wood is dark, enigmatic with discovery
as you skip a relapse, diving straight into recovery.
how could this cherub translate actions
based on inexplicable fractions?
a lunar cycle later, gazing at the crater queen
you understand that he isnt the immaculate pristine,
a walk around the wood fooled your pretty heart
into a misconceived kick-start.
one day you let him slide, his frosty hand slips from your grip
and offering you his snow eyes, you cant refuse to take a sip
of something once known,
a way to remember, that you are not alone.