(Based on a short story I’m working on)

The sight of green and yellow in a frightless dance,
Like scattered bulbs among bushes.
The warmth of the glow, in a winter’s night,
Where one is lonely no more.

The smell of a thousand sunny days,
Or of some wonderful flower of unknown ways.
And at once the awareness of your existence,
Of weakness and strength seeping into your conscience.

What separates fantasy from real?
When the skin gleams under the moonlight,
The hair that burns among fireflies,
A moment of eternity captured in the mind.

They guide you through the path, they show you the way home,
With flashes and glimpses, bright and dim.
Bodies like drops of honey under the sun,
Or a city lit up at a distance.

Did you shudder at the sight?
Do you tremble at the touch?
Does the flame glow bright behind your eyes?
Have you seen your firefly?

What beauty in chaos, wonder in disharmony;
What art in flames, the hidden serenity.
It is what makes them different;
It is what makes her different.

A mystery of neon wilderness.


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