Her

I wish I could say, that she was the Day

Because of how pristine as a clear morning sky she seemed to be – always sorted, always satisfied with what she wanted to do.

I wish I could say, that she was the Day

Some of her, exuberant as the colorful butterflies fluttering around; and some, like the bright flowers that bloom at the first ray of light.

I wish I could say, that she was the Day

When she hummed a sweet tune, like birds making a happy song; Or when she got upset for a moment, as if the sun hid behind the moving clouds.

I wish I could say, that she was the Day

For she spread brightness around to everyone that she met.

I wish I could say, that she was the Day

Except, she wasn’t.

She was the dusky sky that held blazing scars within, “stars” she named them.

She was the dull storm, yet a monstrous thunder – part of her always prepared to destroy if harmed.

She wasn’t the butterflies, she was the Dragon.

And yet she was the stillness of the lake that shone with the reflection of the full moon.

She was the calm rustle of the leaves at twilight, the low hum of the trickling brooke.

She seemed to be for you and for me, and she was if need be.

But more than you and more than me, she was for herself.

wish I could say, that she was the Day; except, she wasn’t.

She was the (k)Night!

Author: slaveofmadness

If there is a Carnival full of fancy things in it, rest assured I will participate!

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