The Phantasmal Library {poetry and short stories}

[Ganyu]

Swan Song
I am not like the peacock with a wealthy plume,
or flashes hanging on me for form.
I am not like those high-fliers, the eagle, the condor,
destined to carry a crown into the clouds.

I'm not a canary who fills the breeze with euphoria.
Neither am I a dove, so peaceful and pure,
Her feathers in and out are unruffled,
but I am a shell with many cracks.

I am not an owl who studies problems -
a turn of the eyes and they come full circle.
Even the lowly crows and other ground-peckers
walk with grander loftier thoughts than mine.

I am the black cygnet, cast aside in a pond
with only moisture and flies for company.
Among the reeds and floating moss,
I'm the rotten egg, the foul fowl.
A portrait of nature's grief and misery.

I want the canary's voice and peacock's beauty,
so that many will behold me in their gaze
I want the dove's grace and owl's insight,
so many will follow me as my flock.

Then, maybe, the sky and wind can finally accept me.

Author's Note: This was the first (and probably the last?) confessional poem I've ever written, and it was quite a challenge given that I didn't really like writing about myself. I guess I was inspired by Plath as well as watching poetry slams on Youtube. I shan't say what I was thinking while penning this poem; it's up to you to interpret and maybe you'll learn something new about me?