Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Cloak of Simulated Grandeur

The blade chips away at the remainders of what used to hold her fast
Bark falls, dying, to the snow-ridden, frozen land
Like looking glasses of another sort, collected ice dismembers from its needle like home
Hands, protected with leather from her beautiful skin grasp tightly to what is left
A trail of the crystals and their green spines follow closely behind
A reminder of where home really is

The zest of the chilly air is replaced with something different
Something disgustingly comfortable and ridden with flame
What’s left of the needles shudder and shake as their mother is tortured
She is stood tall within the warmth, held fast by piercing knives in her core
Something much more uncomfortable and unsettling than the bark from once before
She then finds herself drowning in a sea of water--as if it would resolve all

Looking glasses of colors and sizes replace the crystals of ice, which now turn to tears
They are illuminated by colorful wonders and beauty
Her head is topped with a mockingly elegant crown of stars and angels
Hidden beneath the gaud, a true beauty dies
But her death will be slow and painful, withering away to a bare shell
She can be clothed in grandeur but her heart will always remain in her roots

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