PETALS TO THE SKY

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Smoke fills my lungs,

I stand strong.

Petals to the sky,

I fulfill my destiny.

Tears burn holes

never to be filled.

Demons in my soul

leave scars never repaired.

Each sigh forces a step back.

Each storm bends my stem a bit more.

I persevere through the rain,

the sleet,

the snow.

I yield to the sun and the moon.

I take what is given.

I replace when I’m able.

Though dry are my leaves,

I lift them to the sky.

Though parched are my lips,

I face the sun.

Smoke burns my eyes,

but I see clear.

I bow my head.

IT BURNS

It lights up quick.

It burns out too fast.

Leaving ashes in its wake.

It’s life.

PUDDLES OF CRIMSON

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Shades of red fall from the sky,

Reaching the ground in puddles of crimson.

Footsteps of The Dead linger around Oasis.

Taking their victims in their mighty thrall.

Red keeps falling from the darkening sky.

Covering the grass and trees with its hue.

My face burns hot from its touch.

My heart beats blood in quickening tempo.

The Dead are tracking me through the woods.

I will be one with them all too soon.

THE DEAD GAME

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BURNING BRIGHT

Anger can burn red.
Red as the sky at sunset.

An emotion so hot.
It bubbles to the surface.

It can control your mind.
Take over your soul.

You can try to control it.
To stamp it down.

Some people cause it.
Without a backward glance.

Their selfish ways.
Their callous attitudes.

A fury ignites inside.
A fire burns bright.

As bright as the sky above.
A reflection of my tormented soul.