The PromiseA Poem by UnderINK
You have opened my eyes to the world;
To that which, at one time, they were closed tight In fear and disgust, and still You are all I see for a thousand miles. Your face-- Your hand, reaching toward mine Like some fading light in the distance, Your escape, Which you so long to lose yourself in. And all I feel is your warmth. For just a moment, it runs off of you And drowns me like desert sand, Soaking up my tears Until I fall into comfortable slumber. And when I dream it's only of you, With your angel-grace smile on me, Leaving me short of breath Everytime I am blessed with it. You shine like snow on a still winter night; Beneath the stars you were born from You glimmer for the world to see. And your eyes say everything you don't have to. But these visions can't compare to your beauty. Your voice passes like feathers over my ears, Leaving no trace But a feeling that you are there beside me. And behind that I hear your laughter, Like an innocent child free of corruption; It washes over my soul, Deep and clear; it reflects everything I am And live for. Your gentle wings around me, Soft and strong as the ocean tides Given only to The most delicate creature under the sky. I taste my thoughts, stopped cold on my tongue, Unable to be voiced through lips, Which are frozen in awe and desire; To kiss the angel with golden hair and eyes like ivy. You are my sanctum. You are the beat of my heart and the blood within me; You are the breath in my lungs that you take away so easily. You are in me--a part of me. Without you I am nothing, for you are everything. And others have cast this beauty away from them; A lonely, bruised angel with a single set of footprints. Perhaps you were damned to fall, Or perhaps to continue being the radiant thing No one deserves. But I caught you in my stumbling path. And too many times I have nearly let you go. Too many. Never again. © 2008 UnderINKReviews
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2 Reviews Added on February 8, 2008 Last Updated on February 8, 2008 AuthorUnderINKGreenville, PAAboutHi. I'm a writer. Obviously. I'm twenty years old and have Asperger's Syndrome, so I am not always the best at having conversations--- but I love to anyway. So if you can tolerate my awkwardness, d.. more..Writing
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