The Fall

Edward Munch, Eye in Eye, 1894

The vision was of the ever-twinkling north star.
Bright as the flash of a bolt of lightning.
Next to the moon, the star remains in peace.
Twinkling cheerily, radiant as the angel that it is.

Gravity is now working hard and strong on me.
Falling deep deep into a bottomless pit.
What awaits me down below cannot be daggers.
But lasting flowers and the sweet poison they deliver.

The faint smell of her hair and an outreaching hand.
Impale my heart, soften it to its very core.
Protection shall be given whenever needed, or not.
An arm to hold in the chill, a shoulder to hide from the cold.

Staring into her enchanting, mesmerising eyes.
Falling down into a chasm full of blinding light.
A fall has never been better, never felt so perfect.
I am falling deep into the music of lost souls into the night.

The beautiful seed, the name given to the one hope is pinned on.
I believe she is, moving towards her every waking and sleeping instant.
Falling through the lines of human emotions, with a singular thought.
The fall quick yet slow, perfect; the emotion inviolable, reciprocity sought.

A twinkle in her eye, a shyness in her demeanour.
A jingle in her feet, the sweetest smile, leaving me disarmed.
Fallen into the well of the most powerful emotion to offer.
At the epitome of perfection, these moments and the next, to never be stifled.

Awarded by Jingle Poetry at Promising Poets' Rally 42 in April.