A Rare Phantasm

I walked with a pride, hiding my sorrows
My doubts were the New Moon
Buried deep, Waiting to explode
My questions unending,
Hope unfaltering

You wore a mask of joy, and walked in
Piercing my soul, leaving me breathless
Everything I ever wanted, I thought
As I unmasked you. Leaving you naked
You didn’t stop me then.

You and I, like a syncopated melody
Itching to be one, humming together
Like a setting sun, seemingly touching the horizon
Like a wave licking the rocks
Failing to swallow them to its watery grave

Bring your thousand men, child
To fight me, to criticize me
But I can’t go down.
It’s your shadows that support me
Unknown to you, you bequeath spirit

Through the paroxysms of desolation
You pull me over, warming me up
Like a hot water bath on a cold winter morning
Your obduration impertinent to my soul
As you look through mine, and I you.

A Happy New Year to everybody! 
And let me know what you think.

Mail: theblackwallflower@gmail.com

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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