Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The Last Was The Swansong

There is a well, a hole in the Earth,
it shelters you from all that can hurt.
No one can or will ever find you,
safe to stay there rather than anywhere.

But in those pools I see reflected
a stranger, a face so old, so torn from its mind.
Where has it gone? What has it given in to?
Where was the glory in life?
Was it there and then gone?
Never there at all.

Your eyes reflect light the same as that man in the corner.
The same as the world.
you do not see but shadows, you move right through me.
The things I believe just walk right on by...
or do they trample? I can't quite know anymore than what I'm told.

The only truth heard in whispers behind me,
they say so many things...
but I stay to dream, a cerulean hue,
my color palette the same,
comfort in pain,
it brings honesty to the reason of my being.
What I am, what I forever will be and longed for more,
written on fine parchment paper,
marked in silk ribbon.
No one ever reads.

No comments:

Post a Comment