There are things, which weigh heavily on me.
I won’t lie, I too have my share of scars.
But unlike some mine lie dormant,
They’re hibernating dragons breathing fire within my eyes,
Glowing visions of dreams past.
There is a tree growing within me,
It’s roots run deep,
tendrils that have dug their way through my heart,
And into my soul.
The leaves like the dragons in my eyes,
are different shades of fire,
Clad in the finery of autumn.
This tree has a name,
I know because I traced its name as it was written in the bark,
With my own trembling fingers ~
Yet as the leaves fall and what is old begins to wither,
It does so with the beauty found in sadness,
The sweet chill of winter,
Before the dawning of a new spring.
So I’ll take a knife and change the runes,
And carve a name anew,
This time by choice.
Longing hope, lasting desire, not alone.