Categories
Lyrical Poetry Narrative Poetry

Elysian Field

Orchids and crimson fountain-grass along a wall made out of stone
Orchids and crimson fountain-grass on a very sunny day
  The sky of my hell had opened,  
And inside of it grew flowers that I liked — 
My bluebells and forgive-me-nots, 
My roses and my orchids —
Of all colors and of all scents
Blooming into all areas of what I am,
Making me beautiful into the inside;
Making me radiant to the outside.
   It was my flowering sky
My inferno and my Elysian field
Trapped inside of my own mind
Forever running away from the cluster —
Those that hate yourself, 
Those that enslave yourself, 
Those that can't understand,

They are burning down my Elysian field, 
But in my head it is a flowering sky.

By Eiravel

I live somewhere in the South West of the Island of Mauritius. I am a mother, a spouse, a great life enthusiast. I love writing fiction, poems, and blog; I love listening to music, watch movies, read good books; also, love the sublime and the strange; and I am also interested in all types and forms of art that pleases my mind. I've even self-published a science-fiction book (Darcocyte), and I aspire to make a living through my writings.

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