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.