Sunday, February 8, 2009

The note

you could have said a word before,
or given a small tear to roll,
even a short look of grieve,
when handing out that deadly brief;

it said all but by who,
i tried to find you i knew,
read over and over till no more,
voices are lost and eyes are sore;

and when the wall started to break apart,
they walked over a broken heart,
crumbling under a shattered man,
without his soul now he may stand;

an art that could be taught,
passion that saw the worst drought,
my south road became your north,
beauty of thy love is all the gutters' worth;

there is no truth that life is unfair,
you wont make it all that bad,
give you smiles to make me sad,
all is said but not all is read;

on the shores, mending my boat,
giving all to get a little note,
they know it and so do you,
in there there was no you.


As she walked on those weeds, I sit here and watch those beautiful feet touch the grainy sands. Her fair skin glowed in the evening sun and my eyes comforted at the sight of her smiling to herself. That smile is the beautiful spell that is cast over me all so many times again. This is my pain- I chose it for myself. Half soaked in water I wonder if this self infliction will ever end and if this night ever see a morning. The day may break in every time but who can make the darkness to escape? I question God's work, respect His decisions and ask for what i must get. Its like that bottle of wine you cant help getting drunk on, knowing no matter how bad it will be. Linguistically its referred to as addiction, the heart calls it love.

On the road back I see those car headlights coming closer and closer only to speed away. My neck feels too heavy to hold up this head. I want to bow down to Who knows all. How many times I breakdown is so okay to me that I care not move my lips to murmur a prayer even. My smile denies its self and the path seems never ending. I may leave thy footsteps on this road but I never wanted to be a traveler on it. Deep down in the depths of my self I wanted to be here forever. For once I wanted to be what I am. To find out who I am- for someone that is. Do prayers work and if the wishes come true? I let fate decide. Whatever the result, I loose both ways; one with a wrenching heart and other with everything I could possibly have. If only the rivers from these eyes ever fall into her deep oceans.

Calatrava: Church of St. John the divine (Project)