gren

Pale Sky

Could you break from the angels' grasp,
my pale sky,
long enough to hold me close,
to drop a million kisses
atop a foolish girl's head?

I'll wrap my imperfections
in blankets of ice and fog
hide my flaws behind the prettiest
of pretty gray days
sweep my fears under the strata
and sleep in a cradle of rain
if you let me run my fingers along
a silken bit of a colorless moment.

Would you take it all from me,
my pale sky,
everything that breaks this girl,
paint it blank and force it
to the far ends of your endless space?

I'll give you my weakness
of head and heart
bare my fragility to the most
severe of your elements
hand my soul over to the clouds
and live with the touch of your frost
if it means you'll shield my bones
from the crush of this heavy joy.

Can you even hear this plea,
my pale sky,
the whispers drowned in wind,
the cracking voice of a girl
fallen to her knees below?

I'll leave behind insincerity
and show you every truth
hum my confessions
to indifferent molecules
rest my head in the storm's green eye
and sing softly with bells of thunder
if you mask my ferocity
and my intensity with empty air.

My pale sky,
take the color of my life
and make it your own.


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I don't really care for the end (last stanza) of this one, but I can't think of anything else to make it sound complete. I've been back and forth on it altogether, I love the first two stanzas but the rest is so-so. Any suggestions on wording/structure/imagery that might improve this poem?

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Gren's Music

Peach_follows

Very interesting. At some points it felt as though you had personified some sort of surreal sky image. The words here, seemed like paint for the mind. I could see everything, and it moved, like a landscape with a soul.

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