Papercut Wings

This one is actually part of three random and somehow interconnected poems I came up with while I had the flu. I should be posting the other two soon but I’m in no rush. There’s another version of this one I have and while I’m sure it’s better- in some sense of the word, it grates against my style wherein this one flows so much more effectively in my mind. :)

Art by Keiyou, as always. ©2009 Click for a larger (awesome) view. Click here to check out her DeviantArt. Enjoy.

Paper cut wings
Stained lovingly dark.
Folded and torn,
Bookmarked and burned.
A swirling mass,
Of flurry and swoop.
A thousand words to a feather
As every pen a new page.

A world unfolding
And folding much still.
A universe born
On those paper cut wings.
Carried and flown.
Hope, hatred, and love.
Molting in verse-
Innocence and pain.
Opposite unto opposite,
And everything in between.

Adventure and romance,
Comedia and le ole horror.
Buried deep down,
And bleeding out to the tips.
The feather’s edge-
A perfect pen.
Bearing no better message
Than this:

No cover can hold
This Dear Bird within.
Like bars to a cage
The song still carries true.
For each book is a bird
As you are it’s wings.

How far have you flown?

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