Tuesday, 10 November 2015

19.) There Wasn't Always A Silver Side To The Moon . . .




                            There wasn’t always a silver side to the moon
A side that faced the sun and shone like milk
Once I didn’t know the sun, once I didn’t see his face
My life as dead and dark as that sunken cave
My heart a frayed thing of music cut and lined with pain
A maze of drifting threads in severed thought
A floating thing of inner searching beams
That ever seek to meet their other end, and meld as one...
One with that which always sought me
The face I didn’t know, the sun I didn’t see...
Until, that is, they faded all away, and I was truly dead
And in utter emptiness longed for my end.
Death my beginning, in nothingness I lived again
As light came shimmering upon my severed side
Sieved me through and where it found no light my own
Took me by surprise and lit my face in his reflection.



       *



No comments:

Post a Comment