Twisted

Something I came up with while playing with twisting language.

When flowers laugh and souls die

Clouds gambol across November sky

The scolding air harsh against a face

While fingers and hands struggle to keep pace

Wandering leaves never find a home

Unruly children free to roam

The familiar strange slowing reality

Pale fingers gesture in a fantasy

What's backwards is forwards

Comes tumbling down

When different is dangerous

The dark night is found

Words lie in our hero's mouth

With them, we cannot live without

Still, we try hard to keep pace

Though time has frozen our eternal face