An Unfamiliar EmotionI wonder as I sit if this is real
this time, this feeling, so surreal
Heard people talk about it
Heard the word in the street
Heard many tread the path
but none last when they meet!
And here I am now, on the same path
these cross roads look familiar
I can see my tracks
footprints of past, eyes filled with fear.
But the fear seems distant, as I seek faith
I hold the hand of a friend
someone I didnt know I knew
someone who might walk me down this path
to the end!
Time is a blurr, they say
so is perfection with lack of definition
so is this face I seek, with amazing perception
With soft touch he holds my hand
the moment lasts forever as we stand
Unsaid thoughts were heard
Unsaid thoughts were heard
feelings and emotions stirred
Wonder if this would ebb
like the moon would it wane
Would reality justify its existance
would this time come again!
I am sure there will be storms,
times of test and resolve.
Times of high winds,
when most ships fall!
If its the inevitable and none escape
if we stand together and smile
It will pass like time and life
and moments would be blurry again!
picture ref : http://www.rmxp.net/resources/rmxp/Graphics/Transitions/Lines--dcahrakos.png
picture ref : http://www.rmxp.net/resources/rmxp/Graphics/Transitions/Lines--dcahrakos.png
2 comments:
This was what i was looking for...
Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.
Pablo Neruda
Nice.
Is there a lost love?
Or a hope for a new love?
Post a Comment