Germanian Forest Whispers: Seasons of Solace

I’m Polaris. Stared at with an Aryan soul. It’s
platinum-toned chariots in Her Majesty’s orbit.
Her pheromones, barely grown through Germanian forest,
With thick nefarious groves, in between crystal green basins for worship.
It’s… an aerial focus, ripped by an egomaniac’s warship.
Thickets of woodlands dismembered by this sultan and emperor.
Mission accepted, twisted machete to my indulging adventurer.
The teasel combs shied at my annulment of atonement.
The lulling hypnosis, dull and precocious.
When I’m alone, my evenings weathered.
I go home and read your letters.
Feeling bold, uneven-tempered, where her solstice meets December.
I hold, I flee, and whisper in a lowly weakened blend
Of a golden bleeding sepia, where I cross over an avalanche of paragraphs,
Where we spoke as seasons withered, and I wince and moan to myself,
‘I really hope she’s feeling better.’

Published by Cristian Leonardo Gajardo

Welcome to Cristian’s Cafe, a website where I showcase my various forms of expression and happiness. Here you can find poetry, podcasts, personal blogging, research articles, open mic, comedy, and art. Whether you are looking for inspiration, entertainment, or information, you will find something that suits your taste and mood. Enjoy browsing through my content and feel free to leave your comments and feedback. Please note that the Wi-Fi connection may be slow or unstable at times, so please be patient and look at the art instead. Thank you for visiting Cristian’s Cafe

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