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Firefly

There are men disguised, not exempt        
From passions of the firefly        
Daydreams are spent wrapped in wonder        
Of the fitly firefly and where it has been        
Has it been sleeping as I furrow        
The conditions and comforts of the living?        
       
Mitochondria wither aimlessly        
Above my head as I sit beneath the tree        
A subject not suspected of any deception        
Of feeling, compared with all that is bared        
And the firefly concealed my hand,        
Too soon yet for the dusk or the dance        
It cannot avail for the weakness of night gleam        
And the halo-thane effects pass slowly      
As I receded into the firefly's dream        
       
Place your eye inside the microscope to see what is there,        
The healthy cells or the Cancer cells,        
The Lamplighter of night        
Everything is there to be shown in a look around        
Perfect to see are the special effects of feathered dye        
Choosing what you need to create and what you want to be        
A differential; a single drop of blood on a slide        
A lineage of sages taken far by a million pigeons        
To reach a brood of thirsty wars in time        
Scents of birth in different shades of imaginations,        
Something far beyond our own understanding        
Are the men disguised, not exempt from passions of the firefly.
Written by Pishashee
Published | Edited 15th Nov 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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