Nevolia
07-15-2003, 12:51 PM
check this poem out....
:) Memories
Thinking of you, there now forms a pain in my throat, brings back
reflections of you. My head in my hand, the tears stream from my eyes,
I slowly sink to the earth. Darkness descends-- engulfing me into shadows,
And unknown regions of conscious. Sparks of light shred the darkness of my
Tightly sealed eyes, I cry out in pain. My body shakes, frightened, I scream.
My head throbbing, eyes blood shot, and nerves shaken, I plunge into the
Light. My eyes burn from its fiery intensity. Silently I close my eyes and stare
Around the room-- filled with faces of the dead, their lives cut short.
What can I do to ease their suffering? I ask this to the wind, who softly chuckles
And gives no response. “Time shall mend their broken souls“, I’m told, from someone
Whom I don’t remember now. Here I sit alone, seemingly four thousand years from
That dreadful day, and still there are no answers. Memories are all I have to keep
These demons here at bay, who come to me on tainted days to rob me of my soul. What more
Can anyone do? Nothing, I think--No -- Nothing, I believe.
I love the world for what it is
But not for what it has become. Who gives the right to anything to steal away my joy. I
Hate myself for thinking so, but I am afraid of letting go.
So memories are all I have
To keep these demons here at bay.
wutcha guyz think?? respond--por favor :D
:) Memories
Thinking of you, there now forms a pain in my throat, brings back
reflections of you. My head in my hand, the tears stream from my eyes,
I slowly sink to the earth. Darkness descends-- engulfing me into shadows,
And unknown regions of conscious. Sparks of light shred the darkness of my
Tightly sealed eyes, I cry out in pain. My body shakes, frightened, I scream.
My head throbbing, eyes blood shot, and nerves shaken, I plunge into the
Light. My eyes burn from its fiery intensity. Silently I close my eyes and stare
Around the room-- filled with faces of the dead, their lives cut short.
What can I do to ease their suffering? I ask this to the wind, who softly chuckles
And gives no response. “Time shall mend their broken souls“, I’m told, from someone
Whom I don’t remember now. Here I sit alone, seemingly four thousand years from
That dreadful day, and still there are no answers. Memories are all I have to keep
These demons here at bay, who come to me on tainted days to rob me of my soul. What more
Can anyone do? Nothing, I think--No -- Nothing, I believe.
I love the world for what it is
But not for what it has become. Who gives the right to anything to steal away my joy. I
Hate myself for thinking so, but I am afraid of letting go.
So memories are all I have
To keep these demons here at bay.
wutcha guyz think?? respond--por favor :D