A continuous life of pain
Contributed by
nomie
on
Saturday, 16th April 2005 @ 10:57:39 PM in AEST
Topic:
StoryPoetry
|
An icy hand grasps it tightly,
Menacingly feeding on its soul,
It is then released to die in pieces,
It lay there, alone, in reflection,
Numbed in its fall,
But soon scooped up and embraced again,
Clumsily patched together,
It is weak and frail,
It cannot feel anymore,
It cries to itself alone,
Challenging its purpose,
In this falsehood of a life,
Unsettled in this company,
It runs away, to be alone,
Yet hates the silence,
Its death continues,
It mourns the lost and old,
And hides behind cold walls,
The outside is a world away,
Until touched by an irresistible warmth,
Its icy walls chip apart
And melt until there is only water,
It absorbes itself in deep,
Submerging in the essence of life,
A small strand is lowered,
warm to the touch, invigorating,
Its hand grasps around the last of the warm,
And it rises once more,
With the strength to stand again,
It is full, complete, whole,
The old left with the deceased,
In a watery grave,
It feels love, and loved
A passion, a wholeness, life
But the ever-looming clouds eventually burst,
And it rains,
The cold on the surface begins to seep,
And the internal flame cowers away,
It cries once more,
Waiting in silence,
And it rains on...
Copyright ©
nomie
... [
2005-04-16 22:57:39]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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