The kingdom

A wandering soul I am,
seeking for an answer as
I sit alone,
in a garden of deadly thornes

0541The guards put me in chains of wisdom,
the lover had poison in his kiss
My hands are cold, my lips are pale,
the ground is hard to reach,
the soul can not be tamed

My wings are made of smoke,
my eyes are filled with gold and fire
My freedom is marked by
the roses growing inside my lungs,
building an empire

I dwell with the shadows,
I lure them in my emptiness
and I vow that I will reign
over their kingdom

Magic whispers,
I listen.

 

(Photo source: Pinterest)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s