29 de octubre de 2008

even in the last hour

Spectral messenger, perpetual guest, last visitor...
you, the invasor of the dreams of everyone,
yet... not mines...
ruler of fears, challenge of rich and mightly ones

why are you doing this to me?
I'm bored here... where's your mercy?
am I so abject, even for you?
you, the one with neither favored ones nor hated ones.
you, the one who forget no one

Here I am, finished but not ended
just grasping my own ever-pesent and undying rejection
Here I am, confused and waiting
tired of thinking, tired of waiting.
My rest should have come long ago
but when and where I was destined for?
I don't know...
I'm tired of waiting, I'm bored here...

Repulsion...
what everyone around have always showed to me;

Abandonment...
that what you are doing to me now,

Oblivion...
my only choice?
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Edited By Rose Lachenhild

22 de octubre de 2008

those eyes


"what... are you doing?"

I managed to ask her while looking directly into her eyes...
The same brown eyes that captivated my heart for the first time months ago
and... still do.
Because everything it's so perfect, when I see her eyes... even now,
Perfect eyes... despite they are getting full of tears...
tears of... love, tears... because a goodbye...

I try to caress her hair with my last strenght

careful, loving... that scent...
her determined but horrorized gaze shocked me,
while holding the knife that she inserted into my chest
I asked her again
(and maybe for the last time)

"what are you doing?"

______________________________________________________
Edited by Rose Lachenhild

1 de octubre de 2008

so... if I'm a puppet?

I am learning
to accept the persons as they are not as I want them
no matter how many times they disappoint me
no matter why they forsake their ideals
no matter how many times they hurt with words or actions
no matter what…

I am learning
to read the hidden messages between the superficial words
between the lines
through the soul
the unseen possibilities for everyone.

I am learning
to hear the disguised anguish
the hidden solitude
the simulated joy
the faked smile
the pain in the bottom of each heart
the grudges that have been cultivated with time
by walls of silence and self-pity.

I am learning
to see and to forgive,
but...
what must be forgiven?
who must be forgiven?
my place is beneath all of this… (I am at the heart of the problem)

"I'm not better than you,
will you forgive me?"
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Edited by Rose Lachenhild