Ill-Fated Wallflower

I wanted to add to the poem "Yin-Yang, Or The Human Condition (Different, One)", but in the end, I figured where the poem finished was excellent, so I decided to share this poem separately.

Ill-Fated Wallflower

Hunt, homunculus

Prey to alter, destiny

Cast the losing hand

Grow to love darkness

An empty beauty, starcrossed

A forest withered

Never one with crowds

Never one with fate or chance

Always only one

Alone together

With the music, rusted words

The blade of fingers

Catching bullet-trains

Traveling somewhere, feathers

The wings left behind

Could the constant move

Of sadness across the board

Place me in check, again

Will the pieces of

The puzzle come, labyrinth

Imprisoned in heart

The ribcage holding

The birds, the nightingales

The night tucked between

The dream within dream

The symbols drawn on my skin

Scrawling madness, sane?

The crooked piece stained

Down elevators shafts slick

With the emblem of the rain

With the devil's grim

Abyss, slipping through fingertips

Still water, moved, cries

And we call that bliss

With the moon's soft kiss adrift

Watching the eclipse

Cutting infinite

And if all these pieces fit

Shroud heart, hollow, pit

And if these clouds would lift, I

I'd bear the droplets' sun, mist

Seed inside my fist

Omnipotent chrysalis

Blooming illusions

Darker monarch harlequin

Crown the flowers heaven's king

And build golden walls

If the smallest petal falls

And the forest of dark

Will sing, chorus in their bark

That feathers of fallen stems

Will be the wings, friend

Victorious voice the lips of

Metamorphosis

Contorted we are brethren

Of the highest Everest

And when nature sings her soul in song

In solace gods will hear our curtain-call

And if all of our fortress were to fall

The smallest clover carries on

And if the everglades will fade

Beneath the mountains in the shadow's wraith

On the battleground's terrain

On the glass of heaven's stain

We will still be chandeliers

All the crystals of our tears

And nothing that we fear

Could come the least bit near

And as the world parades

In the solemn ghost's of nightfall's shade

Wildfires will be tame

As the heartstrings plucked by summer rays

Serenade our earthly graves

With the moonlight's striking grace

And pin of the grenade

Will share its worldly shame

In the slumber of the night

Mother belladonna bathed in white

The spirit of our heresy

Dancing death of crypts eclipse of pyramids

Seraphims' imitating formless exodus

The porcelain cage of raging marionettes

On the cliffs of our existence

Or some devil's heaven, in severed premonition

And no one will sit alone

Atop our backbone ribcage thrones

Ransacked poems omens of every tome

The words' of worlds chronological

Drowning in the seafoam catacombs

Cadavers, reapers, sown

Salem's smiles on gravestones

Midnight's shape drawn on the concubine of a rainbow

The serpentine grapevine of blackest alabaster

 

Author's Note

12 haiku's followed by three tanka's and ending with a 13th haiku. That perfect 16 stanza sweet spot. And then, a continuation with a simpler, darker, finish. Enjoy.

Check out my poem Yin-Yang, Or The Human Condition (Different, One)

If you're patient, I think you'll really enjoy it. :)

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.