Romantic Cherubim

Angelic extravagation for the eyes of a mortal man,

Your elegant inspiration a respite to an intricate plan.

Beautiful red petals dance before me, forlorn,

And slowly, but surely I catch the glimpse of a thorn.

The iris of this rose burns, and the stalk surely bleeds,

You’ve suffered just as I’ve suffered…you’re just what I need.

 

The moments pass through; I’m left longing the death,

The iridescent hollow extending its end towards my soul.

Then I remember your beauty, your touch, your breath,

And I’m myself once more before I am swallowed whole.

The blows come again, and if you fall upon your face,

Could I really be the one to restore you to former grace?

 

We can’t reach the sun with just wax wings,

Bitter sentiments and feeble physical things.

 

Mortal degradation standing on two makeshift legs,

A final devastation is all this parasite begs.

A broken creature lies before you on its knees,

You’ve taken sympathy for it, you heard my pleas,

The heart of this monster still beats, and you see its sorrow,

You understand even me, you’re the only reason for my tomorrow.

 

We can’t reach the sun with just wax wings,

Bitter sentiments and feeble physical things.

 

Your wings have been destroyed by beings as worthless as I,

And my most powerful anecdote can’t grant a wax to make you fly.

You’re stuck on this mortal plain with me, yet you take my hand,

Smile, kiss my cracked, bleeding lips and tell me that you understand.

Wax monsters were never meant to love-just fall apart with time,

And that I was granted an angel as lovely as you feels like a heavenly crime.

I bend to normality, I maintain a falsified formality for a calmer reality,

Like wax melts to fit into grooves to be something it wasn’t meant to be.

And you love me even though you’ve seen my true hideous form,

But I can’t wrap myself to give back your wings, no matter how warm…

I hate sometimes, that I can’t help you to get away from it all,

But you’re walking on this corroded place beside a being that should crawl…

 

We can’t reach the sun with just wax wings,

Bitter sentiments and feeble physical things.

 

 

The moments pass through; I’m left longing the death,

The iridescent hollow extending its end towards my soul.

Then I remember your beauty, your touch, your breath,

And I’m myself once more before I am swallowed whole.

The blows come again, and if you fall upon your face,

Could I really be the one to restore you to former grace?

Reviews

[Jake Donald Stephens]

This poem seems to transport the reader to another world. Interesting imagery and concepts that are strange yet open to interpretation. I like it a lot.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

"We can’t reach the sun with just wax wings,

Bitter sentiments and feeble physical things."

Love those lines .. this poem seems to speak of two souls who can never be whole.. wonderful writing .

Chloe

[raining]

the pen flys again and again as words seem to weave themselves. alot to read here and digest in your writing. very interesting style as well. thanks raining

[Naomi Montana Walsh]

I found this poem to be simply beautiful in all respects, you are a talented writer and this was a work of art

[closed]

Then fly Icarus, fly with a pen that can take you far from here, where your bane doth wait. For then, can you take her with you, upon unwounded wings.^

the abstract imagery, and unique flow that I'm familliar with from you. Excellent.


-Dream