The heart and the silver bride

In the hights of the mountain

a heart

waiting to be loved

he waits paciently

for her lover to arrive,

she will come in a carruage

conducted by 7 fire horses,

all around her

tarot cards will be spilled,

the trees

will camp at the feet of the mountain

to see her pass,

and she

brigthly as a silver bride

will take the heart

and carry it home

to the floating stones

where rivers of gold

flow in the infinite

of the vast starry night.

 

 

(note : I decided to start reading my poetry, I decided to start with this poem. My native language is not english, so, my spelling and my accent is not english, it could sound funny, if you want to laugh, laugh the loudest you can. Well, enjoy)

 

 

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