my perfect, scrumdidliocuous, incredibly talented boyfriend wrote this poem and i simply HAVE to share bc he wonβt do it on his own, but i think people need to see this π€. enjoy!!π
From the golden land yonder comes the little golden bird
With its piercing eyes and sharpened beak
Sits in my cold metal chest, becoming the beating heart of a life sustained by the other
βBut as all things, this too must endβ
So begins the golden gilded lie, the twisted terrific tale that was begot of sorrow and remorse.
βSoon too this little bird will flee from me and rend my chest apart with its sharp claws and piercing eyesβ
The lie, the lie that grips me tight and refuses to let go, the lie that coils itself around my head and drips honeyed falsehoods into my ravaged ears
The poison of loss has corrupted this shell of flesh, corroded this revenant of purpose; the bird has left, and so too with it my heart.
And I, alone, had no soul, no body, no desire, and no purpose. I lived for death and could not pierce the veil of loss.
My eyes were overshadowed by the dull metal gloss. The darkened metal carapace that I had traded for my garments shields me from opportunity and the ravages of the mind turned inward.
Amount my fellow men, to nothing and to toil. Among you I feel as a strange alien to your land. The laughter that you share is foreign to mine ears, my soul is heavy with the burden of many years. By appearance you would chance to sort me into youthβs embrace, but worldly weariness hath left the lines of age upon my face.
As the emptiness descends, and so too does my proud head, a single golden teardrop falls from the sky.
I inch away, I do not want it. I shy away from its small golden frame, a remnant of some small forgotten self-preservation. It has hurt me before and so too will it now. Alas as I bring my broken body to flee from its presence, so too doth the little bird. It seems not to hunger after my death as many were before it. this one is different.
Its wings are bent and bruised, its feathers coated by dirt and grime. Its eyes speak of a somber solid sadness.
In my Eldunari, my silver heart of hearts, awakens deep within me a writhing silver spark. A feeling I had not know for many darkened moons now hath lit up my night. My eyes become damp with the tears of an unshed decade, and my shoddy armor is destroyed.
And in my arms it flys. Broken but beautifully so. The great shattered mess of my soul comes forth to create a gilded work of art, worthy of a great museum.
βForever and alwaysβ spake the bird and I was whole
areudirty
gummygunk
jbbartram-illu
prguitarman
