AUTHOR UNKNOWN

11-25-2023

AUTHOR UNKNOWN I

I am a prisoner of this aged husk..

A mirror turned in on itself..

The piercing scream echoes madly,

as frustrated and unbidden...

Drops flow past the inner locks..

And I drown in a veil of darkness.

A poet once said,

"To whom shall I tell?"

I ask the same..

Shall I rail at God,

an entity as far from me as the first bloom of my first love?

Can you not spare a moment?

Or..

Perhaps the piercings of pain I feel are not only my own..

But the mendacity..

Of pretty words..

And pretty flowers..

Lain to rest upon a pyre of unforgiven ash.

You!

and I,

Are a story written long ago..

By authors unknown..

Molded..

By beauty and passion then left on our own!

We are the snowcap on a mountain's peak..

That melts under the pressure of the unrelenting gaze of the sun!

Stories written on the very rock where we stand..

And we are beautiful!

A journey traversing time..

From the first melt,

to a trickle forming a rivulet..

As it chooses its own path to the stream..

We will thunder down the mountain!

In a river of power!

In search of our mate..

Of an ocean..

Mere seconds,

of moments,

of hours,

of years,

of memories,

of fears,

and tears.

There is not a man so mighty..

Or so heartless..

Has not least a one..

If not at the end of his life..

As quick it comes..then..

Surely..

standing at the side of a woman..

Giving birth to his child.

There will be once..

And it will define his humanity..

A love story of beauty and pain,

that is judged in the eye of the beholder..

Else!

There would be but the most mundane existence..

Lacking deviance!

A world of black and white!

Colorless!

Then truly,

the piercing screams would render me mute..

So I thank you for providing me this door..

An escape..

From a cell of my own faults..

And I offer you..

a few words in recompense.

Peace