deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Garden Flame

There was a man looking
through a flower that he
had placed upon his face;
the flower was as clear as flame,
  
There was a mark in his eye
where an Iris kept the breadth
of reality; it made me think
as the fireflies were dancing,
  
There are no empty words
beneath the bitter glow;
place them into the ground
with breaks,
as vast as the deep unknown,
  
Fallen crests; I avail thee not
in frozen solstice of the snow,
in golden stems and alters torn;
take there withered eternal flame
and grow them for your own.
Written by Pishashee
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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