Another attempt at a metaphoric piece. This one didnt come out so well I fear.
Tender is the heart that they mindlessly terrorize,
still attempting to stand from the last onslaught of
inhumanities piled up on it.
Once a heart of dreams, it now struggles to see a
glimmer of hope. The mountains once viewed as
a quest to be taken, now lie silently looming above
you. Its tall peaks and snow covered trails a constant
reminder of the chains. Your expectations and fantasies
given you on a tarnished silver platter, placed just beyond
your finger tips.
Dark clouds roll though the sky blocking any rays of
sunlight that might fall on you. You stretch the chains
until it hurts, just for a glimpse of what a future must
look like. Then blinding pain courses through
you as one of your captors jerks the chain and brings
you tumbling back into the darkness.
You hear them, the captors laughing and taunting you
just outside the door. You Can't's laughter is heard
above most. She is the one that holds the false key
to the chains that bind you. It Will Never Happen sits
in the corner and consumes the jar of hope he stole
from you. Stupidity, inadequacy and unworthy loom in the
shadows stealing the crumbs of self-esteem that scatter
on the cold damp floor.
You cry for aide, but it only spurs the hideous laughter of
those who hold you. You know the master key lies on the
tip of your tongue, but Pride has been a constant companion
keeping you from using it. Hanging your head, remembering
the years of bondage that you have allowed them. Failure always
reminding you of the pain he feels. Then through a crack in the
cell wall, a tiny ray of light finds its way through and you struggle to
your feet. I AM has arrived on the wings of acceptance and
aides you in lifting your arms, looking to the heavens you pray.
Suddenly their laughter falls silent, there is a rumbling and
then the iron door flies open, rusting chains fall loudly to
the floor. Your captors scurry, hiding in the dark corners.
With a smile you step out of your cell and you lungs fill
with the air of freedom, you look at your captors, not with Hate,
who has lost a desperate attempt to go with you, but with
Compassion. You walk passed them, dropping the Master key
at their feet. You Can't retrieves it, seeing. FORGIVENESS
inscribed there, she weeps.
Poetry by Kathryn Walsh
Read 705 times
Written on 2006-07-15 at 15:07
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The Key
The KeyTender is the heart that they mindlessly terrorize,
still attempting to stand from the last onslaught of
inhumanities piled up on it.
Once a heart of dreams, it now struggles to see a
glimmer of hope. The mountains once viewed as
a quest to be taken, now lie silently looming above
you. Its tall peaks and snow covered trails a constant
reminder of the chains. Your expectations and fantasies
given you on a tarnished silver platter, placed just beyond
your finger tips.
Dark clouds roll though the sky blocking any rays of
sunlight that might fall on you. You stretch the chains
until it hurts, just for a glimpse of what a future must
look like. Then blinding pain courses through
you as one of your captors jerks the chain and brings
you tumbling back into the darkness.
You hear them, the captors laughing and taunting you
just outside the door. You Can't's laughter is heard
above most. She is the one that holds the false key
to the chains that bind you. It Will Never Happen sits
in the corner and consumes the jar of hope he stole
from you. Stupidity, inadequacy and unworthy loom in the
shadows stealing the crumbs of self-esteem that scatter
on the cold damp floor.
You cry for aide, but it only spurs the hideous laughter of
those who hold you. You know the master key lies on the
tip of your tongue, but Pride has been a constant companion
keeping you from using it. Hanging your head, remembering
the years of bondage that you have allowed them. Failure always
reminding you of the pain he feels. Then through a crack in the
cell wall, a tiny ray of light finds its way through and you struggle to
your feet. I AM has arrived on the wings of acceptance and
aides you in lifting your arms, looking to the heavens you pray.
Suddenly their laughter falls silent, there is a rumbling and
then the iron door flies open, rusting chains fall loudly to
the floor. Your captors scurry, hiding in the dark corners.
With a smile you step out of your cell and you lungs fill
with the air of freedom, you look at your captors, not with Hate,
who has lost a desperate attempt to go with you, but with
Compassion. You walk passed them, dropping the Master key
at their feet. You Can't retrieves it, seeing. FORGIVENESS
inscribed there, she weeps.
Poetry by Kathryn Walsh
Read 705 times
Written on 2006-07-15 at 15:07
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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