Poem#06: 

 

                "Beyond the Murky Shore"

People claimed your are the bloody red of a lost fire, 

Not that, you're actually the delicate white of a cloudy choir. 

They told me you're the false indigo of their wishful needs, 

But all I see is a quiescent hibiscus, a forgotten seam. 

I was warned to stay away from your stormy illusions, 

Who knew they were just silvery Auroras in breathing ruins? 

They branded you as the dead obsidian of an emotionless night, 

When their own sight was devoured by the shadow of their endless fright. 

Your ingenious violet was crooked into a distorted crayon, 

But they never reckoned, I could catch even the melting dawn. 

Oh my prince, don't let others define your snowy peak, 

For you're the freedom of your sky, while they're gormless weak. 

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