I heard a voice
Incarnate and separate
Splintering the dawn
Calling my name
The stridency alarming
As though I’d lost my way
In the depths of the night

What words shimmer
In the morning air?
The fragments of a dream
I rose too slowly from
Or the presage of a mystery
More deep than dreamlike fantasy?

The lunatic dances
Before a burning citadel
Hearing the words of prophecy
And now I see
The mad one is me
Twirling on the spot
Trying to recall
The whispered words
Still spilling
Like blood and fire
Along my wall

© Helen Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
This entry was posted in Fire, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Burning

  1. Heartafire says:

    Beautiful as always, please note I am at a new address. Happy New Year helenvalentina.

  2. brandyeli says:

    Amazing first four lines and overall language till the end. Thank you especially for line three. Lovely work.

  3. atothewr says:

    Awesome! Love the way these two lines flow together.

    The lunatic dances
    Before a burning citadel

    I can just imagine so much when I read them.

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