I don't really write poetry, but...
PostPosted: Sun Feb 08, 2004 8:27 pm
Allo, good friends. I don't really like poetry (no offense to anyone) and barely ever write it, since I'm more of a short story person...but this was floating in my mind as I was driving to school one day...it's inspired by Haibane Renmei, but isn't exactly related to any characters or anything, just a random little blurb...hope y'all like it
Dreams
I stand before on a high precipice,
Three hundred feet above jagged rocks
Like knives
My hands are outstretched, a crucifix
About to offer itself
Into the crashing waters below
I have nothing on but a rough, white tunic
A ring of light above my head
Brighter than the sun
But my wings—not white—
How I wish with all my heart
They were!
Hideous, protruding
Like two black flames on my back.
Black as hell, feathers charred
From its fire
I am a blackwinged angel
Hardly an angel
An abomination
Wings too small to fly
I see the waves hurtle
Into the rocks
Like a log against a barricade.
I breathe deeply
One last breath
I jump.
I feel myself
…falling…
…falling…
…falling…
The wind in my face
I close my eyes
Wishing for death to come
For my blood
To smear against the shining stones
But there is no death.
I’m taken somewhere else
Yanked up by the force of God
I open my eyes.
My face
Only a foot above the water
I realize
I’m flying.
The wind
No longer a knife
Reminding me of the horrid world
But a caressing breeze.
I climb up, up
Toward the sun.
I laugh
I haven’t laughed
In a long time
And I see in the shifting waters
My wings are a cloudy white.
Dreams
I stand before on a high precipice,
Three hundred feet above jagged rocks
Like knives
My hands are outstretched, a crucifix
About to offer itself
Into the crashing waters below
I have nothing on but a rough, white tunic
A ring of light above my head
Brighter than the sun
But my wings—not white—
How I wish with all my heart
They were!
Hideous, protruding
Like two black flames on my back.
Black as hell, feathers charred
From its fire
I am a blackwinged angel
Hardly an angel
An abomination
Wings too small to fly
I see the waves hurtle
Into the rocks
Like a log against a barricade.
I breathe deeply
One last breath
I jump.
I feel myself
…falling…
…falling…
…falling…
The wind in my face
I close my eyes
Wishing for death to come
For my blood
To smear against the shining stones
But there is no death.
I’m taken somewhere else
Yanked up by the force of God
I open my eyes.
My face
Only a foot above the water
I realize
I’m flying.
The wind
No longer a knife
Reminding me of the horrid world
But a caressing breeze.
I climb up, up
Toward the sun.
I laugh
I haven’t laughed
In a long time
And I see in the shifting waters
My wings are a cloudy white.