Another Poem...

Wrote this one today during my government class for no apparent reason. It made so much sense when I finished it- keep in mind that "seraph" in this particular poem refers to the stone carvings of angels that guard tombs and graves, but that the speaker is not necessarily speaking to a dead person.


Seraph's Song

If I were an angel,
As I look to be,
You'd never have to feel alone,
As you'd sit beneath my wings.

Alas, I am no angel;
I do not wish to be.
For for your sake I would shed blood,
Or destroy all living things.

A lover, rogue, guardian, wolf;
I am who I am and I am forsook
By those who I should trust the most;
But a ghost remains of all they took.

I am who I am and I am not proud
That fury and passion and madness abound,
Yet for this world I exist and am whole
In the fact that my life is meant to expose;

The only true stability that chaos brings
Is that I'll always shelter you under my wings.


So that's what came out, and I didn't realize how deep my own words were until I thought about them for a while. I needed poetry today for some reason. Hope you enjoy, but whether you do or not feel free to comment.

Peace,
~W.V.~

Going Home

I've wandered down this road before;
A whispered memory at my door
Was all it took to break the hook
That held my mind and more.
Reflection begins, emotions teeming,
In the back of a bus, eyes open, dreaming.

~Gabrielle M. Hutchinson~

Dark Red

Passion is everything.
It is the product of lust,
Trickling into the cryptic crevices of the soul.
It is the fruit of love,
Filling the heart with songbirds and cherry blossoms.
Warm shadow, sweet darkness,
Delicate fire, icy resolve.
Passion is everything
And nothing
At all.