Contrapositive

Upon a morrow I found myself,
Once broken, twisted, and abused,
Looking downward upon the world that made me,
What I am to them forgotten,
Deciding that my only option was solitude.

As if by some unexplainable twitch,
Be it of luck, irony, or divine will,
Arrived something new to the landscape,
The same that's been studied often,
Yet always until now found lacking.

The suddenness of the option made,
Even more dangerous by its subtlety and attractiveness,
Shocking contrasts of color,
To what prior had been a dead shell,
That world a portal to my heart.

Then the realization occurred,
Beauty due to reflection, connection, and similarity,
Tangles of thorns and barbed wires beckoning,
Because you are as I am but simultaneously the opposite,
The one for whom I very well may have been made.

Reviews

[Legion]

Creation has its counterpart. Destruction is a beauty within itself and they do so go hand in hand. This is a wonderful piece. I like the wording that you use to craft such a magnificient story. Your first stanza could stand alone as a poem unto itself. Well done and may the southern pole meet the northern pole halfway. Kudos.