Monday, 18 July 2011

High-Flying Dreams

Curl up, pull your legs to your chest.
Feel the spiteful wind weave through your tattered vest.
But close your eyes and dream away,
for cold, cold winds subside in May.
And when you dream, dream of me,
Dream that we're always meant to be.
And dream of flying past the stars,
on silver wings and not in cars.
Think of oceans and the open sky;
your imagination was always meant to fly.
Dream of the comfort, warmth and love,
Soft and gentle as a dove.
Dream of things you love and hold,
Think like that and you'll never grow old.
And the small smile that spreads across your face
Could beat back just about every mace.
But all too soon the shots ring out,
And everything starts to burn about.
Your high-flying dream runs away again
Just like people on a bullet train




A poem written by Blood Butteflies and posted with permission.

6 comments:

  1. *gasps*

    Thats beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!


    Thats AMAZING!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks!

    @Kal: Sorry about things but there's another poem XD.

    Wings


    I'm on the run, thinking of you,
    wishing that you were right here too.
    Thinking of sharing your warmth with me,
    Because we're always meant to be.
    I'm not thinking of the current war;
    Thinking instead of making our hearts soar.
    Flying on, not silver, but golden wings,
    To the stars all the way in Yoldenhin.
    And these wings, they capture hearts,
    but not the type you find in marts.
    Their golden hue shall shimmer and shine
    But their gentle glory will never blind.
    Now these wings are still growing,
    But come December they will all be glowing.
    You just have to wait and see, my dear,
    The time of my return is really, really near.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nightmare

    Tucked in at night,
    Let's turn out the lights.
    Watch the darkness crush
    All bright forms like mush.
    And suddenly you're scared,
    Feel your throat being grabbed.
    The dark shape that looms over
    Is not just some other cover
    Try to breathe
    But unable to leave
    This nightmare of yours
    Is so warped of course.
    Scream in agony
    but no sound's the escapee--
    The lights turn on
    The shadows are gone
    But please, I beg you, please beware,
    Don't put it down as a warped nightmare.

    ReplyDelete
  4. An aching heart

    Her smile is like a rainbow,
    Her laugh is nothing like a crow,
    Her face is like the bright sun,
    Her hair like dreams on the run.
    But behind her bright countenance
    Hides a pain like a piercing lance
    And tears dot her cherub-like face
    When the pain increases to a striking mace.
    Heavy rivulets of tears
    Roll down her face like twin rivers
    The ice-cold bud on the frozen smile
    Would break if not treated well.
    Her heart aches behind her radiant smile
    And her mind broken beyond the crack of a mile.
    Her bright countenance hides the hurt within,
    And her aching heart never meant to win.
    Nevermind the saint-tempting bribes she’s offered
    To take away her pain, is what she’s always wanted.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Beautiful! Blood Butterflies, you write awesome poetry!
    Not to mention the, like, four poems sitting on top of this comment!
    Which are all awesome!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Three! Three poems! Well, four counting the first one.
    But I had already mentioned that.

    ReplyDelete