Dream Passion and Colors

Thursday, May 23, 2013

There is a place just for me

There is a place just for me
I keep it under lock and key

It's my minefield to sweep
For in this place, only I go that deep

No love, only hatred, inside
Therefore, only I will abide

You cannot touch me when I'm there
This cross is mine, you see, to bear

I made this hiding place for me
And only I need to RSVP

So when you see that look of disdain
Please know my secret password is pain

The gush of wind blew my hair,

The gush of wind blew my hair,
Straight up to the unforgiving air.
Fall was peaking around the trees,
Leaves would pile high,
soon up to my knees.
Hello orange, yellow, and red,
Bye-bye June, July, and August,
hello Halloween.
The warmth is gone and won

Dancing with sweet feminism,

Dancing with sweet feminism,
above cemeteries of barren fields.
Inhaling a bitter scent of pessimism,
as my feet step over fallen leaves.

Arrogant gust recoloring dreams;
green to orange as yellow beams.
From deep inside the arid lands,
cold nips the warmth of my hands.

Steeped within this golden view
with all my senses remembering you
Consolation yet, refills my heart
as autumn begs spring to start..

Swaying around, with sweetness still
I sink deep within the yellowish hill
continuously breathing in hope until
Autumn dreams fall out of thrill..

By: Rania Moallem