I wrote this recently in a brief minutes that I had.
basicaly it is a poem about existance.



She Want.

An island in her tear was all she could hold on to.
On that island, a little man.
"You will fly my child," said the man, "You'll be alright"
And with the memories he drown.

Something that felt like cotton on her lip was all she could remember.
In that piece of cotton, a rose thorn.
No words but melodies spoke that little thorn in cotton.
And watered by the tears, a rose- reborn.

The sting in her heart was all she wanted to let go of.
But grasping in tight was a mystery bliss.
The bliss that lead her to the stinging.
The bliss that brought her down to this.

A voice singing a song was all she could pretend to be.
A note, from every word anyone ever spoke.
And suffocating her, the never ending singing;
She became of life, the never ending song.




Poetry by Nora
Read 887 times
Written on 2006-07-25 at 06:18

Tags Bliss  Suffocate  Pretend 

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MeisI
Life is in this as reality
2006-07-25