These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Blinded



Dawn does not exist.
Not in this place –
A stony beach littered with broken shells;
With shattered, fragile dreams.

Warmth is illusion.
There’s nothing but a fierce hope to ward off the chill
And as the tide continues to rise with the moon’s growing fullness,
The strengthening wind whips the soul into freezing emptiness.

Mockery –
The tune to which the stars here dance.
Nothing but brilliant slivers of light against velvety blackness
Cruel and piercing,
They are the eyes
Which led me here in the first place


2002 June 28

Blinded no.2

 
Course and pebbled is the beach
Where my feet has led me
I’m bleeding from the cut of a million stones
I’m ever so tired, so weary.

The tide is high, the current strong
And my bones are almost freezing
But since tonight, I’m all alone
No warmth would come sustaining.

I could hear it again,
that insistent whispering
The sea is calling out my name
And I’ve grown so numb; my strength is failing
I’m halfway into giving in.

The stars, they’re nothing but brilliant slivers
Of light against velvet black.
Cruel and piercing eyes that reflect
No hope. No warmth does it give back.

The moon has grown, it’s now so round.
The tide is rising fast.
Nearer into the mysterious depths I’m drawn.
For how long could I still last?


22nd June 2002

Blinded.



Dawn does not exist.
Not in this place
A stony beach littered with broken shells;
With shattered, fragile dreams.

Warmth is illusion.
There’s nothing but a fierce hope to ward off the chill
And as the tide continues to rise with the moon’s growing fullness,
The strengthening wind whips the soul into freezing emptiness.

Mockery –
The tune to which the stars here dance.
Nothing but brilliant slivers of light against velvety blackness.
Cruel and piercing, they are the eyes
Which led me here in the first place.


22nd June 2002


Blinded No. 1


Seeking for refuge; an escape
This is where my feet has led me
A stony beach with broken shells
I’m bloodied and ever so wary.

The moon has grown, it’s now so round
The tide is rising fast.
Nearer into the depths I’m drawn
For how long shall my strength would last?

And yes, I could hear it again.
That silent but insistent whispering.
The sea is calling out my name
Promising to end my suffering.


22nd June 2002, 1:05 am


Cubed

 
Nothing,
And yet at night
Something is echoing within.

No one,
And yet in my mind
There’s someone for whom teardrops are falling.

None.
And yet in that deepest part
Nothing, no one and none
Has the power to
Deeply hurt.


14th June 2002

Insurgent



Bounded, captive I may seem to be
By elderly pride - pure tyranny,
Stronger so shall my will shall strive
To live rightly my right to life
To fulfill duty and take action
Carry out what I must in spite of distractions
Remain inviolate and safeguard my innocence
Against hungry cynics and the pitfalls of corruption

In my youth is where most of strength lie
Therefore ‘to give my best’, that must be my battle-cry
To be open-minded, intellectually-free
A well-rounded character; a symbol of individuality.

I’ll refrain from pretense and only live what is real
An integrity unquestioned – that is my goal and my zeal
It won’t matter how bounded or captive I may seem to,
For always shall I find a way to be free.

2002 June 14

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