Wild Winds, Skeletal

We were glass

and hardened metal,

folded over and over

to rally our strength

and we hammered our sparks

with callous logic,

I splinter at change,

when lightning meets the bark

it parades into the roots

where leaves are blasted

before frying the farmer's lively hood,

A last gasp of cattle

huddling from the strobes

of indecent electrons releases

with no one to hear it,

A storm

wild storms

blow through me

whipping my locks

as if stallions couldn't stop

without the master's leash

calling on the bits to retract,

Skeletons

Wild skeletons

have set me on a course of

decisonless journies

all in all enough to make a

young man wonder where to go,

I was meant for more than stability,

My legs shackled up tight

to responsibility leaves me

at a sudden

but not unpredicted

disadvantage in my romantacism

of the kingdoms come and gone,

They would wish to ground the birds in us

but they miss,

with wicked arrows

how they must miss 

Still just winging them enough

stunting growth

within our wild fertile bones

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ReilaMorello's picture

Wow,

this is beautiful. "Still just winging them enough/stunting growth/within our wild fertile bones" is just breathtaking. 

Callis.at.the.Palace's picture

Too nice.

Thanks for reading.


"Where do you go when nowhere feels like home?"-FBMF