#WritcoPoemPrompt30

She rises from the ashes,
Donning infinite avatars,
Sending the vile searching for cover,
And begging for mercy...

They cast a ribbon like sharp blade,
subtle, soft, sharp, quiet. ... and apart.

Charged for the new dawn,
still fleeting like a baby fawn...
Got away with...
some where else counting inventory,
with memory banks, sour story.

Sweet and sour dew on grass...
A melting picture. Who needs to ask?

I do!

I have some love.
You have some pain.
We found distain.
We refrain from vain contempt?

I do!

She said, "I do!"!

"Giving my heart was not played like a sport! None such was or is a game. I get the report!".

Distortion beholds the bitterness ensued with a twisted wrath clenching, and wrenching dripping dew on morning drenched blankets...

A feather, a symbol of two sides joined together.
A warrior, self control in even stormy weather.
A cheif, the difference between self care and inflation of ego.
Don't stain me of false pride!
He! Go!

Fly Eagle high. What to be altered on?

Seeing what it means to speak...

A way with the words?
A way with care?

Past saying, 'A', and, 'B', but all the way to, 'Z'.

Over complications we stride and wain.

Prayers are more than moves of the lips.
Ever struggled to speak gets the tips.

Quiet, solitude.
Forgets quiet, gets rude.

Bliss to the young who have it more easily.
Please not self to poisoning reasoning.

Resonate, resonate...

She looks at her hearts life in her hands. Turned to a new face, "My child, I hope you'll see me trace.".

Colors of the winter, spring, summer, and fall...

People she loves, endearing their call.

Slice soft as time does.

What color the ribbon?

Beautiful...

Flowering fuzz.

© TwoRoadsHome