The Stillness
Contributed by
kidnic
on
Saturday, 23rd September 2006 @ 01:38:48 AM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
|
There's a place called The Stillness here in my mind,
Where nothing is born, and little ever dies.
The air is stiff, tense from inaction,
Beams come down, which divide into factions
Sun-lit glades, and impenetrable shadows,
With a backdrop of immensely beautiful meadows.
Nothing comes out, there is little of play,
Even the moon decides it better to stay.
There are no animals, not even men,
Not even in the most sacred of glens.
But if you look hard enough, you're bound to find,
A man on a stool completely confined.
Here he is, alone, in this place so still,
Not moving one muscle, devoid of all will.
Help is what he needs, action he lacks;
Someone needs to come, someone who acts,
And bring with them meaning, flow, and a reason,
A want and a will to break out of this prison.
Free him to move, and walk all around,
To experience the world he newly had found.
So maybe one day he will finally see,
Someone will come, and soon he'll be free.
Copyright ©
kidnic
... [
2006-09-23 01:38:48]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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