PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the wake of my destruction

Come the fields of ash and gray.

A world so vast and empty

Yet my eye should catch a ray.

I admired its incandescence

Showing light in midst of fray.

And in that moment I saw it

A stem just off the bay.

Through pain and fear I ran

With no intentions to delay.

To find this long lost relic

The hope for which I pray.

Now inches set between us

Slow to touch it if I may.

My eyes saw no illusion

No dream made of clay.

This flower was pure beauty

My mind still in dismay.

Alluring to my senses

In each and every way.

This flower oh so innocent

With no signs that could betray.

Now knowing of its conclusion

I should've admired and walked away.

But greed wears a fine facade

Like the needle that hides in hay.

My hand clasped the stem

Such beauty did I slay.

An unforgivable burden

On my shoulders it would weigh.

For every second in my hand

Meant another second of decay.

A chill had hit my spine

As its petals began to flay.

That night had lost all warmth

Under the light in which I lay.

Claustrophobia dawned on me

In the wasteland of my stay.

Again the moonlight hides from me

In my fields of ash and gray.

Darkness seems ubiquitous

When there's no love left for me to say.