| Deviant Login | Shop |
 | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
Beauty and the Beast The Beast used to roar and grumble in hisBeauty and the Beast by ~Erinys6
Thunderous Prison; the floor awash with the
Cast-out petals of wishes; promises he never heard
In words. He paws and tumbles his way through
Depression, shredding memories and mirrors.
And She - Beauty - full of glee, roamed
Freely in her wake, where flowers bloomed
In front of her eyes and died at her cold shoulder.
And how he bloomed! His gentle smile,
Patient, understanding, choked her in wonder.
And he changed: he smiled brighter than the sun.
Invented. Challenged. Held on.
Her Beauty failed her, for fairytales are limited
To Youth: The façade of pretty things concealing truth:
To the future The last fragile leaf, clinging to the treeTo the future by ~Erinys6
Hanging on, Hanging on.
It will not be long, for winter must die,
And though days seem like icicles, dripping
Away, you’ll remember in your trembling sides.
You’ll remember what you saw, through the glass
Which shielded you from the roar of man.
As she too shields herself from that terrible wind.
And though you fall, you fall freely -
Seeing enough of the cruelty of nature.
Red and shrivelling with age.
Do not simmer long.
Do not hold on.
It was your time to grow.
The Black and White of it. I loved a man,The Black and White of it. by ~Erinys6
And he became the pages I wrote.
Black and white
On coarse, thin anaemic wood.
I loved a man,
And his words became the place
I hid within.
Bracketed within his embrace.
I loved a man,
His stubble now the inability to
Write eloquently
Or the ellipsis I leave a trail with.
I loved a man,
His smile, now a flurry of alliteration
That swells here
Within my fingers and bookworm spine.
I loved a man,
His walk, now freer than before
In the gaps
Of time, when I find myself without words.
I loved a man,
His eyes, ah his eyes, brown velvet,
I still see them,
But words cannot bring him back.
Go Back I’m going back to the beginning,Go Back by ~Erinys6
The first turn of the cover,
The browning of paper withered with
Age and wisdom, wrinkles of thought.
Laughter-lines and bent pages which
Someone else wished to remember
The contents of. And there’s so much
To think through, so much time in which to do it.
The blotted words on this watermark
The sorrow of something soiled by
Someone who didn’t take the time of care
But I’ll cradle you in my palms again.
The cow’s strong hide, red dyed, and
Undestroyable with mortal hand,
Thick skins and important ideas
All locked up inside your spine.
Shall I start this again? Your
Thanks for your time
Sta.sh
*
thanks for sharing your inspiring appreciation!
