Language

I speak a language all my own,

The only language I have ever known.

It's strong and emanating like drums,

Its resounding echo into the world it thrums.

My lungs fill with oxygen and love,

Only to disperse like the petals of foxglove.

Seeking out cherished souls,

Fire-bright like the embers in the coals,

My language stokes the flames bright,

Blinding the night with a beautiful sight.

From my heart to my head,

Like a sonnet being read,

The energies flow from thread-to-thread,

Never-ending and without needing said.

These words are complicated, needy, and vibrant,

Piercing through flesh like a trident. 

Forgotten and faltered, my voice seized,

But my heart, my soul, my mind released.

My language speaks in many forms,

It rides upon the wings of storms,

My language cradles the beauty forever lost. 

-FractalLuna-