Wednesday, February 22, 2012


Gloomy blue and red to serene eve,
tomorrow, a stormy sky.
With incessant tear cascades from above,
my grief will refuse to die.

Often I ignore, yet sometimes I ask,
of some things not meant for me.
Bitterness enclosed in a lovely mask,
as I wear it joyously.

The sun scatters hope while morning arrives,
sweet comfort like your embrace.
Once again, I rise to fight and survive,
and you join me with my pace.

Sometimes we give up, at times we lose faith.
We heed upon our heart’s told.
We rise and fall like the tides of the Earth,
finding peace within our hold.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ December 15, 2011
 'Endless schemes.'

More poems by this author:

 If Tommorow Never Comes
What If?