To fly through time, as sweet as lime, its beauty; a dove. This I shall covet. It’s breath; my air… times hands ensnare. My age is upon the page, where the book is my stage. My life: a doll. Death: a child who calls to play. Nowhere, can I stay, for time is where I hide from all who have lied to me. As I fly through time it is as bitter-sweet as a lime.
Backstory: I wanted to play with the notion of travel for a poem and I ended up thinking about all the different ways you can travel that aren't on a machine. You can travel though life. Aging is traveling through time in a sense. Which lead me to what happens when you're done traveling (death in this case) or if a lie has finished "traveling" around to other people its reveled. Honestly, my mind just makes really weird connections sometimes.
About the Creator
Raven Diamond
I am an actor, published author,sketchbook library artist, model, award nominated singer/songwriter, IT specialist, entrepreneur, wife and mother.
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I Spy: A Cinquain
I spy Forest's green eye Gem's hanging in the sky Beauty of nature in my eyes I spy Backstory: This is a more unusual piece of work. I wanted to try out some new story telling methods or learn a new style of writing. I ended up stumbling upon a poem called a Cinquain which is not to be confused with a Haiku.
By Raven Diamond3 years ago in Poets
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