Must I Set You Free?

 

 

The moist soil sweltering

under the apricot flare.

The velvet terracotta

sweetly embracing the lifeblood

of the sprouting green stalks which rise from the earth.

The fetid aroma of the sapphire fertilizer,

but all forgotten for sprouting green stalks rise from the earth.

 

The course reeds rose beyond feeble seeds,

prime, petty, pearly beauties.

Though small and fragile

the crimson fruit that you will soon bare.

Fed by a deluge rains

you shall soon grow.

The dew drops about to overflow

from the sweet lush petals you have begun to grow.

 

You’ve grown my dear,

like a child, so young, but grown old so soon.

You’ve protracted yourself beyond my wildest dreams,

your torn velvet terracotta can no longer be your home.

Must I set you free?

Your crimson fruit no longer small,

your green stalks have risen, you must be set free.

You plunge with hands and spades towards a new home,

a new beginning.

 

You begin anew.

Your fruits have been repeated,

your roots slaughtered by unearthly earthworms.

Must you go so soon,

must I truly set you free?

Your petals scorched from the amber blaze,

no longer shall I gaze

upon your wretched demise,

burn.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. whatcanib says:

    I sit here in awe. This is an observation that delights the heart and mind.
    Your use of poetic devices helps to weave the tale and keeps the reader wanting more.

    Like

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