Forfatter: orkidedatter
It’s looking a lot like Christmas time…
My poetry collection, Beautiful & battered, breaking through the chains
Poem;
The day is short and the night is long in this
country in the north with its snow-capped
mountains and fjords with white veil that lie
still in this dark time, the river flows with its
ice crystals dancing in the waterfall that
hovers with the north wind beyond the dusk
and she lights a candle.
The Northern Lights dances in joy where the
polar bears eyes glimmering infront of the
Christmas star that blinks in this
frozen winter night where the last ray of the
moon’s mystery slowly fades away until
she lights a candle.
A child’s face resting against the window pane
in the hope…..
underneath the Christmas tree
lies everything she wish for, but it is too good to
be true.
Snow crystals fall outside are unique, beautiful
and shines evocative in the cold night.
She light a candle where she dreams an Arctic
dream about the miracle of the infant faith.
The white dove flies silently through the chains
that lift the adventure of hope behind
the jewel of the dark night.
Somewhere with the frost on her cheeks,
a little girl lights a candle for all the stories that
are expressed without words, that are burned
into the scars of the human hearts.
-Orkidedatter-
My book; Beautiful and battered, breaking through the chains
My first poetry collection in English language is
released on 12.1.2020. (Amazon.com)
Available in my linktree:
Poem:
From the north a butterfly in
winter land under the
Polar star in the elongated small country
-Norway-
If you listen carefully you can hear
her wing stroke rises from a descending black
star from a nightmare visions
flash down below the abyss…
breaks through the chains from a cage of
another day healing subconsciously
a picture of pain.
Bleeding memories and a battered
country girl,
but beautiful as the midnight sun…
strong as the Northern Lights dances on the
black canvas of the sky, she colors her soul’s
landscape of a ruin to an
architectural masterpiece.
-Orkidedatter-
Lips
Photo: credit to the right owner
Words: @orkidedatter
@orkidedatter_artist
Facebook: orkidedatter author
The last arrow…
Art my own @orkidedatter @orkidedatter_artist
———————————————————
In a big, dark and cold temple she is
hunting for a secret King.
A hypnotic kind of magic in his atmosphere
and his eyes met hers.
She owned him and the air around
them stood still.
A hidden clandestine love of her life.
In love with his metaphorical history
and a desire to solve his intelligence.
Entwined by a spitting cobra she blinded him
with her beauty.
He was tempted and swollowed her soul.
He printed fragmented words into her heart.
She spoke into the flames of the King in a
delightful language.
She is descended from a decoded puzzle.
Petals broken as dust from a shadow lost in a
thought.
A perception uncovered his being unleashed
her heart and soul.
Forest of her mind temptations.
A key to interpret the depth within her sorrow
beneath her alluring silhouette.
A tragic reincarnated broken temptress,
and her tears blew with the silent wind and
scratched into stone…
-Orkidedatter-
The mask of flame
A closed world and betrayed by all.
I`m cold and freezing, no one to hold me.
I lose my mind, accustomed to the concept of
being sad.
They took my body, slayed my joy of life.
Masks of dark shadows in the night, beckon in
the moonlight.
A mind molestad by malicious madness,
tearing me apart.
My deathly demise seems to be my embrace to
a better place.
The wolf`s heart trembles in misunderstood
love.
The wings of the unknown demon strike me on
the cheek,
down my jaws to my spine and pain burned
like a hidden
love in disguise.
The mask of flame hunts me in the darkest
night, a ghost from
my past is back.
My heart is silent.
A beautiful silence in the middle of a black
storm.
A bloody fist, a broken mirror, my shadow is
laughing.
Peripheral view moved along us, made to be
broken.
Bats piercing my mind with toxit tears and
saliva.
I have no chance, everything is fake, cold and a
empty coffin
with human body dust.
My first breathe in this world and I was already
judged.
I am not a soul that is on a dead or alive
poster…
I am invisible and not worthy to breathe.
When the mask of flames ignite again….
RUN….
-Orkidedatter-
Tears from a Black rose
Art and picture my ownLike a mountain in a lotus land known
by witches and trolls she is a language of
nature.
Wild enough, but invisible like a ghost town
hidden by a veil of clouds.
A nightshade of her mind,
have passing the glorious sun.
A lonely soul that wander to the depth
of the lake and the Evil embraced her spirit.
She gave life to a butterfly in the cage of hell
her frozen black rose from an archangel
cracked inside her crystal shadow.
So much bloodshed.
So many deaths.
Been never a magical love story,
no happy ending, no magic spells or
hidden dragons…
She is just a craft on crumpled manuscript
thrown away by the Dead Prince of
madness…
You never could handle the Black pearl from
the village…
When my petals cry, they hit like bullets.
Beautiful and battered
Art, my own orkidedatter-From a nordic author and artist:
COMING SOON
Poetry collection:
Beautiful & battered
– breaks through the chains-
——————————————–
From the north a butterfly in
winter land under the
Polar star in the elongated small country
-Norway-
If you listen carefully you can hear
her wing stroke rises from a descending black
star from a nightmare visions
flash down below the abyss…
breaks through the chains from a cage of
another day healing subconsciously
a picture of pain.
Bleeding memories and a battered
country girl,
but beautiful as the midnight sun…
strong as the Northern Lights dances on the
black canvas of the sky, she colors her soul’s
landscape of a
ruin to an architectural masterpiece.
-Orkidedatter-
@orkidedatter_artist
Facebook: orkidedatter_author
Orkidèdatter 