Caricamento in corso...

Edges

By J Ann Crowder

Pain traces bleeding edges frozen by icy winds sheething a hissing song
 
Prowling ravens turn to coal dust by our burning screams
 
Inevitably, somber moons of night overlay earth’s shadow and turn to blood
 
Prevailing light travels behind this madness in our minds
 
It was meant to be, the madness and pain
 
For blood moons captivate
 
They could not exist without each vital element procuring magic potions
 
Striking a match to our centered being
 
Now, a firebird is our core
 
At last, we only comprehend light after darkness has rung its last toll
 
We only see beauty in God’s silent Promenade after blindness dissipates
 
We only feel joy after the smoldering ashes of our pain die
 
Is it a wonder?
 
Not in the end
 
Because in the end our comprehensions reveal a truth of power:
 
Diamonds do not create without a burning
 
Virtures cannot be fully recognized without vices
 
And our greatest nemisis becomes our priceless and precious stone

Our journey must inevitably be met with pain. Written March 16, 2016.

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