Moving Through the Dark
The walk thorugh the
Emptiness was lovely.
I called your name so loud
it sounded like a scream.
But the Silence grabbed it away
before it even left my mouth
and burried the intention
far below the ground.
My very own sadness
guided me further down the path.
And all I could see were
places that I could be hurt.
I wanted to touch them all
and I was injured.
The brokeness and scars
could last forever.
Please don't let this be so.
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Tears
Beautiful...in the horribly apt way that pain has to cause artistic creation. I read a quote somewhere and here is a paraphrase of it: Under a few hundred years of rule by the Borgias, Italy had war, pestilence, famine, death, atrocities of many types. They also produced, Michaelangelo, Boticelli, Leonardo DaVinci. Switzerland has had hundreds of years of peace and prosperity and the best they have come up with is the cuckoo clock.
Think for yourselves and let others enjoy the privilege to do so, too.
-Voltaire
you're funny
thanks for the quote. pain causes art in a lot of people. sometimes the worse the hurt, the better the work. at least we can make something great out of a horrible situation.
terribly sad, jezza, but...
I agree with the previous commenter. It is a lovely poem.
Your images are original and heart wrenching, I love the second stanza where you speak of walking down a path and only seeing places you could be hurt. You are very good. Thanks for this poem.
joyce
The Emptiness is always lovely....
Sad to say this is the first time I've actually had the chance to read your work. The wait was worth it. Art is in the air. A fruit tree that willing gives to all who wish to partake of its Beauty. Many, however, take with no intention of giving, to the world, something great. They are the worst of thieves. Though, to you 100, I say take and take and take, for what little you have given this site, is greater than most who post and post and post.
For all it's worth...