Elysian Field The sky of my hell opened And inside of it grew flowers Of all types that I like — 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 feel beautiful inside Making me look radiant outside. This flowering sky of mine Bright Sunsets in my eyes Both inferno and Elysian Trapped inside of my own mind Where I am forever running away From that particular cluster — Those that hate yourself Those that enslave yourself Those that can't understand. They are burning it down My beautiful Elysian field, But in my head, in my mind It is a flowering sky. -eiravel-
The exterior seldom reflect the interior. Your state of mind might as well be filled of optimism, while outside circumstances may seem hopeless; that’s what I tried to convey through this poem.