Lingering behind, lost and blind
Shivering in the cold dampness of a dark cloud.
Searching for a being of clarity…
Seeing green,
Feeling blue,
Crying red,
Dying a ghostly white!
Naked finger
Unmarried- unwanted.
Resenting the living….
A swing, occupied by ignored children
In a Playground for the forgotten
Duly brings forth,
the silent wounds of bitter abandon.
In the meantime, I sing,
With a piercing but tender scream:
“Angel of death -where is he?
When will he come to get me?”
Winged unicorn –flying free
Free of judgment and of responsibility.
Artemis, aiming her enchanted arrow,
At another young and unlucky widow,
Suffering excruciatingly through childbirth,
Ceaselessly weeping, powerless against her woe.
Artemis, rapidly but gracefully
Saving and freeing her brood,
From an existence without “purpose”-the age-old soul-food,
Selflessly rescuing her offspring, from deceit and treachery.
No longer am I a child,
wide-eyed, but mild.
So now I know, I can see.
How going back in time,
To the age of innocence
Where courage is ample,
And believing easy,
would be a dreamy reality.
The price of happiness seems to be always rising.
With diamond cuts and clarity, over love and pure lust.
Devotion sans ring –without that bling!
Rarely helps bring, the universal happy ending.
However, if perchance, found: “Yes, it’s truly endearing.”
Hopeful,
Full of hope -to succeed in execution.
Or is all, just another illusion?
Train of thought
-a chaotic and urgent expedition…
Leaving me lingering
-quietly shivering,
One more train has gone by,
without even stopping;
And still, there’s no being of clarity,
no healing, no resolution.
With a piercing but tender scream:
“Angel of death -where is he?
When will he come to get me?”
Winged unicorn –flying free
Free of judgment and of responsibility.
Artemis, aiming her enchanted arrow,
At another young and unlucky widow,
Suffering excruciatingly through childbirth,
Ceaselessly weeping, powerless against her woe.
Artemis, rapidly but gracefully
Saving and freeing her brood,
From an existence without “purpose”-the age-old soul-food,
Selflessly rescuing her offspring, from deceit and treachery.
No longer am I a child,
wide-eyed, but mild.
So now I know, I can see.
How going back in time,
To the age of innocence
Where courage is ample,
And believing easy,
would be a dreamy reality.
The price of happiness seems to be always rising.
With diamond cuts and clarity, over love and pure lust.
Devotion sans ring –without that bling!
Rarely helps bring, the universal happy ending.
However, if perchance, found: “Yes, it’s truly endearing.”
Hopeful,
Full of hope -to succeed in execution.
Or is all, just another illusion?
Train of thought
-a chaotic and urgent expedition…
Leaving me lingering
-quietly shivering,
One more train has gone by,
without even stopping;
And still, there’s no being of clarity,
no healing, no resolution.
