Tuesday, March 20, 2018

A good laugh and an updated version on it's way

I've kept journals since I was in eighth grade, it's kind of cool to revisit these writings/ musings and at times just silly stuff.. it's funny, and sweet and sometimes I can still feel the pain I felt back then at such a tender age.

This poem, which at the age of nineteen.. I named :

 HER OWN DEATH- A NIGHTMARE FALLING 
(here it is as was written then, I have to say I don't even get some of it)

Blinded by her past thoughts, a leaf blows over
the silken cocoon of what she once called her own

An ocean rising blue in it's deepest depths
purity strained through the shaking sheen of sand
Mists running rampant

Blackbirds fly to the unknown heavens
On endless fountainhead

Slow death swallows the animosity of something never attained

Red moon rises to a blind overshadowing of dripping dew from unshaven fields
Mountains loom to cast a darkness over what she once called her own

She seeks what has been lost
only to find the startling mirror of what had never been
Blinded by a Neptune of lunatics
her mind, she finds, may not belong

Where she once found solitude, now there is only eternity
An eternity of breathless motives and unscrupulous hands
roaming the breadth of her soul

Crying rends the seem where it had been sewn
A bite of the red apple and evil came in blurry shades of pink
and lowered shades of yellowed skies

And she had once called it her own

Askew is she, never again can the pieces fit
Black her nights, her bright eyes now dull with the steady passing of time
A baby never reborn, though questioned by a curious mind

And still the thought arises
She had once called it her own.
Me at 19