Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 11, 2010 21:55:00 GMT -5
I was originally trying to write a poem, but this came out instead. Oh well.
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Think softly, dear, for I can feel the whispers of your heart, like the slightest breeze from a butterfly's wing as it flies so close, so gently by that one may almost wonder; was it ever really there at all? Perhaps it was but dust in the air, a cold breeze, a golden ray of sunlight that so slowly, so suddenly made sadness happiness, comfort, fear seep into my body, spread through my veins, the shadow of a strange emotion not rightfully my own.
Whose tears are these? Whose smile? Perhaps they are yours, so kindly shared, though mine are but an echo of the ripples made upon the clear gray surface of your heart.
Can you hear their cries, their laughter? I can feel them in my bones, so strong and loud that my very soul bows under their weight. I feel the killer's bloodlust and the doctor's wish to save, the coward's fear and the hero's bravery, all come together to form a muddy swamp through which I wade so very slowly, their feelings pulling at my legs as I wander lost in my own mind.
Think softly, dear, for I may drown within a louder heart.
------
Think softly, dear, for I can feel the whispers of your heart, like the slightest breeze from a butterfly's wing as it flies so close, so gently by that one may almost wonder; was it ever really there at all? Perhaps it was but dust in the air, a cold breeze, a golden ray of sunlight that so slowly, so suddenly made sadness happiness, comfort, fear seep into my body, spread through my veins, the shadow of a strange emotion not rightfully my own.
Whose tears are these? Whose smile? Perhaps they are yours, so kindly shared, though mine are but an echo of the ripples made upon the clear gray surface of your heart.
Can you hear their cries, their laughter? I can feel them in my bones, so strong and loud that my very soul bows under their weight. I feel the killer's bloodlust and the doctor's wish to save, the coward's fear and the hero's bravery, all come together to form a muddy swamp through which I wade so very slowly, their feelings pulling at my legs as I wander lost in my own mind.
Think softly, dear, for I may drown within a louder heart.