PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You see me as I fall, but

when I rise, your eyes are blind

to my flight. Invisible like the African ghost

emerging from the soul of the night. My touch

is graceful to the skin of those who ail. And

those whom souls are wicked,

attempts to call me hail. I am hidden

within the smoke, which in fact,

is behind the prettiest smile -

brightly shining, divining at times, exposing

itself within endless miles. I've grown

the most beautiful flowers, and

nourished the ancient trees. When I

intersect with the nightly winds, I

create the coolest breeze. My home is

of a baby blue, over looking the world -

The pains and pleasures; the worthless and

treasures - the sweet chirps

of a baby bird. I am not a murder,

but a server of my Father's command. Many

thousands of years ago, my ancestors

wiped out all the land. Jan. 21,

Around eleven PM, was the most recent I

appeared that night. You

saw me as I fell, but when I rose

Your eyes were blind to my flight.



Tha Prodigal One...