Poem of Paragon

Run away with me, into the south side, our predestined realm of lily-white fortune.

Our shadows never appear, while the sprouts of the climbing hydrangea inch their ways towards full-focus lucidity.

Into the brightness of our home.

Hold my hand as we wonder past the unsung stories of those before us,

Eager to taste what they tasted in their paradisiacal prime.

I watch you smirk while your eyes smile, bathing in the euphoria that we view through our perception.

Unamused yet enraptured by the freedom across the squalid bridge before us.

Creation of this mellifluous life shall be carved in our near-future, remembering all that we have undergone, to reach this possibility of a framed haven.

We moved on the same wavelength, transmitting our energy to the less fortunate,

Spreading that bliss down every dark deserted alley that lie ahead.

You hold me closer when we reach the crest of our onset, relishing in that clean slate God has gifted to us as we ached to leave the north side.

We heard the honey-voices, sweet talking our numb bodies into what we have always dreamed of.

And we smiled as I thought of this quintessential moment, planning our life here.

I felt happy.

Let us leave this presoaked potion of what they define as a successful path, embellished by the scars of this earthly existence of living in flesh and bone.

No longer shall we feel compressed by our wrongdoings.

We will reach that worthwhile holy grail on our climb, up the pallid clouds, into the paragon.