The Poet speaks
Oh so daunting night do not tear me apart.
My heart palpitrates and my hand trembles.
A shadow tries to get me and confusion eats my sanity.
Thou promised shephard tend me into your flock so that her presence leave me easy.
Shifty figures break me from the relieve of dawn.
Lay down, lay down.
My screams are hollow as meself thoughts are sorrow.
Impertinent to my horror,
the night is endearing, and so are the seditious voices in my head.
Where are thou heading?
Would the good shepard call on me. . .
The unknown feeling seizes thy heart by a gallow.
Hush hush, my frantic soul,
But care not to cushion my plunge with despair,
for only revelations in private countenance begets a straight jacket for the terrified.
Who could explain the undercurrent stirring deeper
only to move a rapid lake towards the dead sea.
I am fraught beyond the pale of imagination for imagination leaves me no clue.
Blessed are the nights to be one with the world.
In dreams of sleep and sleep void of dreams,
the latter is unattainable.
Young lamb kept shut in gilded cage,
twin years of the trial of lull,
fear not the door when reopened to thee,
for then thine heart'll be bowed.
I wrestle, grope in the black of night.
Who can rescue?
Or, who would?
Not this crucible, no!
Am I alone?
I can't silence this song in my head- it's mockery to my sorrow.
Or the very distant hope of rescue.
Rescue?
Perhaps. Perhaps...
Emphathy?
"When divinity was mortalised,
Divinity... Emphatised."
Scars?
You struggled?
- Written : Yisheng
Amazing. =)
Cookies and cream, Regi @12:52 AM
