A poem written for me

2038-01-19T03:14:07Z

Eyes to the high sky
Tied to my eyes
Blind
The sun of strain; reframe from leaping in his flame
His smoke rolled off me, like heat waves of age
And age and time
And time so fine you look back on that time, and catch a glimpse of your own death
Where green flashes flash my glasses
And purple pulsars pass me
Beats of rain, fell, to the beats of guitar
And our arms twirled upward and reached for the stars
Rivers run deep and the river was wild, and from the depths of our currents swept a golden haired child
Dancing the river and swirling the rain
The women cried out, their voices in pain
For the child, which form this world twas torn
Held up high, to the eye of the storm
On lightning! she danced, to the place she was born.

Chivalry is dead

A poem written for me