Of bricks and honey

We arranged

The pathway to

Our golden age

Fire blossomed

Within our hearts

Love kept pain

From being too sharp

Though times were hard

And we had to deal

What mattered most

Was we could feel.

The scorching days

The frigid nights

I wish I'd known

To hug them tight

As shattered glass

And broken ties

Turned the world

Into a mirror that lied

So convincingly

I would have believed

That there was nothing

Left to be felt

I would have believed

That and nothing else

If roses red

And dried tears of blue

And flowing grass

And the lonely moon

Did not remind me

That I needed to feel

Or you would

Have lost me too.

Hmm ever since I took that long hiatus from writing poems I feel like my style has changed. Subtly. My poems aren't as super dark. What do you think?