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Floating Through the Fields

Green serene.

As I lay,

among the lily spray,

new and fresh,

innocence at rest.

Yearning for knowledge I go

searching, learning.

Floating through the fields,

flourishing as nature yields.

Tender turf,

wanting the wisdom

of sage and sense.

Too naïve, I drink from the vial spiked

with malicious moss, infamous ivy, bitter belladonna.

The virescence of verdant viridian,

too much, too soon, no room.

I, now gaunt instead of gay,

dull and gray.

I, with too much felt

to say.

But no longer with a voice,

silenced, not by choice.

Sunrise hastened sunset.

Amanda Lyons
Amanda Lyons

I always hate the bios. How am I supposed to tell you about me without sounding generic? How can I convey to you who I am and what I write in such a space? I hardly know myself. I like to write dark fantasy erotica. I read nearly anything.

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