Illusion of self imagery

In her game she is the shadow interrupted,

floating on the clouds right next to me.

Hiding from who she wants to believe,

in light her name stands for more.

Never ending in her thoughts her love,

patience falling to the hand of doom.

Silhouetted in herself she reaches high,

beseeched by goodness in feeling her fall.

She cries only in her tears I cannot see,

written in her smiles her heart so unclear.

Serene eyes of destruction demolition despair,

caressed by hands of desire she stands apart.

Which heart is left for me to take hold of,

if her disguise is masked by her disguise?

Taking time to feel what can’t be known,

hidden in white clouds her shade arouses me.

Twisted to the point of insatiable lust defiled inside,

thirst for who she wants to be my curse.













Johnny Newell