As I watch you walk out of the door, into the streets, the pouring rain, I can hardly believe 1
myself, as I say that I will cope. How was it that you came into my life, a shining star 2
burning with the argent of beauty, only to fall into the black hole of yourself? I can hardly 3
stop myself from crying, knowing that my life will never be the same, as though it ever could 4
have been when you first entered it. Ah, my memories suffice to stem the sea of all reality 5
before its waves lash forth to drown me. When I first looked into your eyes, and saw 6
pupils, dilated, desperate to absorb anything from this world, surrounded by a sea of azure; 7
when I first drowned within those eyes, first fell into you in a desperate attempt to be seen 8
by something, someone, somewhere; when I first told you that you had beautiful eyes, lying 9
in the absolute understatement of the irresistibility of gravity, omnipotent as it is miniscule. 10
Your eyes are no longer as they were, stormy and independent amongst the unknown. No, 11
you are now hardened to it all; hoping that there is yet some light that you cannot destroy, 12
no matter how you try; seeking eternally for the one thing you will never conquer. You 13
conquered me the day I met you. Why did you have to prove it to yourself? Am I iron, that 14
I gleefully leaped into the hand so desperate to forge me? And for what reason but to prove 15
your own strength to yourself? Again, I am remorse for how you ever could be as you are, 16
and yet have been as you were. How could I have loved you if you were as you are now, 17
eyes incapable, yet desperate, to perceive anything of substance; hands of perfect grace, 18
grasping the tools of destruction; lips of Damascus steel, so sharp as to draw my blood. But 19
why did you have to change? Why did you have to burn down all that we ever had, only to 20
step, as one cast by fate from heaven, into the pouring rain and wind-soaked street? Is 21
freedom so great a thing? Is Truth so high a goal? Is death so necessary an element to life 22
that you would kill? Yet you have chosen not to slay, and you have chosen not to free, and 23
you have chosen to give a life of lies to one who was once as wide-eyed and wonderful as 24
yourself. How can death be more than a physical loss, and how can a physical loss be 25
worse than the death of the soul? You have slain my heart, and you have freed me to 26
enslave myself, and you have gained much Truth, but given only to yourself. Lips of steel, 27
eyes of the hurricane, words like wine on an open wound, and soul like rain; as I watch you28
walk out of the door, into the streets, the wind, the pouring tears of the tempest, I wish I 29
could see what you see; I wish I could feel what you feel; for all Love falls like rain down on30
me; for I never before have felt real.31
Author notes
Have you ever felt?
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Simply Amazing
Damn! You are some writer. This is such an amazing story that I will forever remember. The way you wrote it, like, all in the mind, it blew me away. This is such an amazing piece. It really is one of the best stories i have ever read. You are soooo lucky to write the way you do, I really, really admire you for this write! WOW, THIS is what creativity is all about.
-cindyxxx -
To answer your question( I apologize for taking so long) I would say that what I am trying to say in this is a great many things at once, simply depending on how metaphorical a perspective one takes of the story. If you view it as an overarching metaphor for life, then it could take the meaning that separation is the only way to truly know anything, and thus life is only known and subsequently validated once we can no longer experience it.
Some other perspectives could include viewing the work as being about someone who has been "used" by a nihilist as nothing more than one more experience, and in that being used finds a very twisted validation of his life, sort of a "serving others, even if the others give nothing in return". Even further, the work could be viewed as a man holding on the ideal of Love, even after it physically ceases to exist; refusing to let go of such greatness as is Love even in face of the fact that it is unrequited; having actually attained the ideal of Love in the perfect sacrifice of his own desires, subsumed into absolutely whatever the object of that Love deems fit, even if that deeming is the destruction of the relationship.
All different perspectives form a greater whole: that reality can only be validated by something outside of itself, whether a fabricated ideal or an actual one. By holding onto that ideal, in face of all opposition, in face even of all fact, reality and existence find their cleansing independence from all else. -
I say, this is amazing.
I still haven't figured where these come from.
You write so well, I love it. And since I'm not very good at commenting, as you are, I'll leave you with this ... You should make your writtings into songs with really intricate melodies and the like. This almost reminds me of AFI, and I think that if you could create music that moves an audience as much as your writtings move me, That would be killer. Seriously.
Ta.
ExOhExOh. -
THis is an incredible piece of work. Though, i must admit, i don't quite understand it. Are you saying that the only reality exists apart from what we have learned to call reality. Is that what you're searching for, your lost reality. Is that where you find yourself? Or are you saying that it's not worth the search and that you'll never find the answers you're looking for? I heard an interesting quote once. It was by Jim Morrison. He says:
"We're like actors, turned loose in this world to wander in search of a phantom, endlessly searching for a half formed shadow of our lost reality. When others demand that we become the people they want us to be, they force us to destroy the person we really are. It's a subtle kind of murder. The most loving parents and relatives commit this murder with smiles on their faces."
THis isn't exactly at all related, and i don't totally agree with it, but i thought that it was interesting. Anyway, great job. I commend you highly for this poem. God Bless! -
Wow, this is beautiful.
Your word use is thought-provoking. I loved this...I remember the poem you wrote a while ago, I think it has the same name "Incompletion" but I'm not sure. I think we all ask ourself this question sometimes. Have we ever felt? Hmm. Anyways, I see a poem of yours got featured in Darkwrite. Congrats it really deserved a trophy. Great write!
~Lana
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