love, joy, pain
a discombobulation of trios
snapped up in uncanny realities,
reverse fantasies, longing sighs
Head on the pillow,
eyes closed, mouth shut,
the mind drifts into the dark,
so is the tortured soul.
It's not desperate.
Just tired of the endless wait.
The simple disciplines yet hard decisions.
I speak peace to my heart,
words of consolation I whisper
to the open cut, bleeding wound;
the fiery furnace that is my emotions.
I wonder as I write,
I hope and pray for one more day.
One more day of life with the angels,
in the open sea.
"What do you wish for?" I muse,
"why do you sigh?"
"why do you throw your head back?"
"What is up there?"
"What is it you want?"
The line blurs and illusions sweep
away the cloud of truth.
The sky is a blanket of dreams.
The sea is merely a cup of will.
One step after the other,
light feet leave the cavern,
imprinting upon the sandy shore,
with a trail of white thread but it is all faceless.
"Who are you?" I inquire,
"you occupy my thoughts,
enthrall my heart with your whispers of lies."
"I hear the trees sing to you,
the sea is enamored with you,
beasts of all kinds are taken to you."
"What are you?"
A figment of my imagination?
I feel like I died years ago.
Do you have the answers?
Do you know what I yearn for?
Maybe I see her smile, but I go to bed.
A silent prayer in my heart,
'may I not wake, till the day breaks.'
But Time is cruel.
She is like a serpent, slowly,
slithering from the abyss of broken dreams,
shattered lives and violated minds,
she bares her fangs at my dreams!
Like a rope,
she coiled around my neck,
leading me to the dark away from prying eyes,
away from help.
She hisses at me, she rebukes me,
my life's work total nonsense before her eyes.
I try to inhale. I plead for air. Hand reaching for the light,
the other fighting her off. It is war!
She is ruthless, unrelenting; she-devil.
She strangles harder, I'm at her mercy,
like the anaconda with its prey!
The days grow darker, so does her venom,
for she is invincible, you can't get a hold of her.
Time has no cure.
She is the ugly in every beauty.
The Mask behind the mask.
Inspired by Enya's Boadicea, Dark Sky Island and Only Time
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I have very few knowledge about poem and understand very little about it. So compliment about the poem isn't ok for me. But I felt good while reading the poem.
Awww. Thank you very much. I really appreciate it!
!LUV
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I don't know how to critique poetry. Every poem I read, whether in books or on the internet, always gives the impression of its own beauty.
I sometimes get the impression of beauty from the style of choice of diction and from the parables or figures of speech that are made.
And for this one poem, I want to comment poetically about wounds.
when we hurt broken hearted Our relationship with bolster pillows is getting closer not because I'm sleepy rather want to escape from the bitter reality of life
But wounds are the door through which light enters our hearts. never run from the wound until the wound becomes the antidote
Thank you so much. For your poetic words too. I feel too that sometimes wounds are necessary to heal.
Very beautiful. You conjured up some amazing imagery in this poem. I really felt the pain and torture, that we put ourselves through xxx
Thank you so much! I really appreciate your words!!1❤️❤️