Blank Canvas

For a friend: I promise life is yours to make.

‘With that, the angel let it go,
Unto the ash and crimson snow..
An open cry,
A final sound,
Until her heart had dyed the ground..

The End.’, or so the story goes
As pens and knives carved deep in ice
Adorned with rose and bonny glow
To fade as time would pay their price

As winter thaws and thanes will rise
And stand alone, to tell their tale
To deepen gold, to ripen hearts
And bow their heads to no avail

To smile and learn and love upon
The speckled stars that wink and shine
And paint across their weary hearts
For stroke and vein to intertwine

With every breath, you are alive
With every breath, you’re proven here
So take your blood and tears and smile
And paint upon your shaded fear

This world will always be your stage
As times will go and step in stone
This life will always be your canvas
Always yours to make your own

‘This is a tale of pens and knives
And empty glass as their disguise
Their violet eyes that slowly bled
And broken words they left unsaid..

This, too, was once upon a time..’