Strokes of color, like patters, in the encroaching night
Light hues on canvas, full of vast uncanny sight
Across the field, stands brazen their gilded throne
An array of notions for a gaze set in stone
Yet our sabers, we wield, in this dance, with delight
Sealed, is this shift of perspective in the red, blue hues of twilight
A darker shade, of crimson and grey
Woven into my blood, sets the mood for center stage
I trace my thoughts across this sea of marbled space
Embarking on a pittance of my own measly glass mace
I tilt my weight, swinging; an accord of strings pluck seldom as I fall prey
To my own glass mace: my bane, my bravoure* in shame
My mind runs loose, on the silvered cusp of surrender
But realize, I do, my fault in streams of hasty splendor
I let go of fear, of doubt, of anguish
And drop my mace; the glass shattered, in a mist of solace and relegated dismay
My steps become lighter; bolder moves, thus, transpire
I move betwixt the shards, as a dark sky dawns on this spire
We meet with providence, yet unaware of our fate
The canvas glistens bright, a stark haven for all shades at play
As two radicals, we intertwine: distinct but rooted in our state
We`re streams gushing forth, flowing by each other; in this river dance, we sway
Part ways, we do, our rhythm a dynamic interplay
Our path becomes clear, as we bid farewell; our eyes blazing like the ground, on which, war, we waged
Joy comes to haunt me as I leave this canvas
From my first steps to my grand finish, I recall my euphoric meander
I smile, and look forward: my gaze piercing into my distant, uncertain future
As I revel under the night sky, I glance at the spire: a symbol of what was, of a past endeavor
And I look back to the same canvas
I look back to my first moonlight dance
I wrote this poem to encapsulate an experience I haven`t yet had, but something I look forward to playing out the way it does above. Hope you enjoyed it :)
*bravoure = French for bravery, or courage.