Wednesday, 4 June 2008

Inside Out

Silent screams of anguished hope
Holding the pieces together,
Fragments of the past, present and future.
Loved in body but never spirit,
Held in arms but never esteem.
Shaking from the burden of knowledge,
Never wanted but freely given,
Too freely to be genuine
But nonetheless possessed.
Eyes long before closed to signs
Now forced to behold more than a name.
Justified by selfishness from all perspectives
What of the arguably innocent?
Can't she see her future in this present?
or would the loss be worth the love.
What happened to all or nothing?
Is it where she left and lost herself?
Somewhere near I love you...
Sometime before being haunted
By unforgiving eyes never seen.
But what of then when there is now...
Nothing but everything all at once.


All a reflection...a reflection of acceptance.
Acceptance of imperfection built on compromise.
Compromise that killed a dream on the altar of desire.
Desire so strong it burns with a fire blue,
Fueling a cycle of creation and destruction-
A birth permitted by death.
But yet, promises appear enough
Stolen touches are all it takes.
Sentenced to a lifetime of tears that never fall,
With smiles that fade in the solitude of reflection
On what could have been and was left to be seen.


Thoughts are scattered
Mind adrift...
Almost feelings float away
Just out of grasp...
Just out of touch...
Just out of sync
With the reality of truth too real
Eyes too knowing, too probing
Somewhere between need and want
Lies this feeling akin to desperation
But never so vile because it is of him.
For him...him that was, is and will be.
O the ironic tranquility in seeing the end,
Clear and crisp before she began.
Yet even with the shadows...she fell
Into the inescapable darkness that is the light of life
At least for her.
All for him who feels his power but doesn't truly know it.
When the story is told, how will it be heard?
Epic...tragic...happily ever after?
When the hero and the fiend are one in the same
And the one in distress is as much to blame.
Who tells a story void of demarcation?
Reason...logic...time.

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