A Poem by Olivia Hegger (aged 13)

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The Beauty That Does Not Rest

 

Flames may lick

at unrested souls,

tempting them to burn.

And mist can cover

even the highest mountains.

The bite of winter

gnaws away 

at proud trees

every year.

The painstaking crawl of time

leaves destruction in its wake

and wrinkles in a young face.

 

Someday this pen will stop,

and its hand will be dust

beneath the soil.

But even though 

the pain is powerful,

my flesh is made 

of sterner stuff.

And these eyes still see 

the stars

piercing through

the nights ink-black cape.

 

And this mouth

will tell stories

until there are no more ears

ready to listen.

And these fingers

will touch silk yet

despite the feel of broken glass

 

And until the day

that this body 

draws its last breath

I will see

the hope that remains,

like a candle in

the dark.

And I will see the beauty

that does not rest.