The Lion’s Den

 

I dream a misty blue

Around the crevices of my

Eyes.

 

Your candor does not exceed

Any relic the past offered me;

Nor does it offer comfort in

Times of duress.

 

All the winds blow against

My cold flesh.

 

I recall your lion’s den

Surrounding me with stale

Air.

For there in your mystic

Eyes lurks a fierceness

I cannot explain.

Your aura is a dark purple.

No light can break through.

 

If only a song could turn

The page, and lead me

Back to myself.

 

© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2017

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