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I have thought of ways to destroy the beauty in my world.
I have done this with the words I speak,
The way I say it all kills the green and blue.
The gray swirls in and swallows me whole.
Dust settles and there is nothing,
The distance shows no truth.
Evaporating up into the air is the heat of a once lived drama.
Unfolding to its dead end.
What my mind created out of its wit,
Endured to the best of its abilities,
Falls apart in the gale blowing across the sands of ancient time.
My tears fall upon desert sand, roses bloom and die in a moment where they lay.
Vivid is this reality, for which I am bestowed,
This hate and anger surges like fire through my veins,
Up into my eyes,
Burning the world with my scorn.
Upon this scorn dried leaves burn,
Withering in my hateful gaze.
Rising to myself but admitting nothing
The sky burns red through the gray of the forgotten world.
Forged is my sword of need in this cold darkness.
Cutting the thick of fog to reach the golden sun.
In my eyes the burning begins to cease,
The agony fades away.
Walking towards that glowing ember,
I realize it all.
I hear the sad music softly playing,
And the sun gently shining over that field of green grass.
I smell the sweet scent of a dying winter.
Flowers flourish, reaching towards the sky.
I see the tall trees reaching out with their leaves gasping for the sun,
Desperately holding an urge for the right to live.
I feel my bare feet touch the soft ground molding into the grass.
I look up into the sky caressed with feathery clouds, gently drifting in the breeze.
In that moment I see what I never new.
I slowly walk across the field of rolling hills,
Soaking up the world of my dreams.

I bet that cost money.

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The following comments are for "Under the Surface of Fog"
by theDecade

very good
sure you've got good things going on this piece. maybe you should consider some editing!

( Posted by: therethere [Member] On: December 24, 2004 )

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