In our slumbers; there are shuttered mirrors
through which we often times catch
glimpses of our worlds; and feel the sorrow;
pain and the fragility of life; when we wait
on the windowsills; not for familiarity
but for strangers whose hearts are less
judgemental than those around us.
Often times we watch lives of little girls
succumb to the palms of the dark waters
hoping they'll return to earth in some
odorous night; but maybe we'd be long gone
perhaps; we'll be photographs collecting dust
In the wilderness where joy and sorrow
are almost inseparable; as we once were.
but the tales of our growth will be told
that once; photographs whispered to each other;
"don't fall asleep; we can still escape this hallway
of nothingness and pair with the stars";
One day we shall flee from this game of rescues
and desertions; and journeys trammeled
by the inherent seeds of hatred and vengeance
seeping through our scars.
where we seek patiently, a life that's come
undone; what so many have tried and failed
to hold on to; and a sadness that pampers
our imaginations; and romanticizes solitude
that though physics may disagree
but we are not alone with these wild energies.
©love_life
L