The Promise

 

The promise

 

Shall the dormant prophecies come true,

When all my heart comes around

And shadows the tree that covers me

When all the shades are blue?

I climb the high stairwell

To an oblivious conscientious state of mist

The stupor surrounds the stagnant memories

When there is no one left to assume.

I dream of it once,

This image of mine,

Scathing upon the pumice of life’s rapture,

The clouds fade away and smile down on me,

When the love of a promise shines through.

Reviews

[Moflo]

You used some fantastic imagery in this piece, and I think the length aids it perfectly. I really love the way you described everything, great work!