Please don’t utter the word love,
It is not meant to be, love is too little, too vague, too monotonous a word for me,
I seek to understand what the heart wants, but fail abysmally as a cold noise fogs my mind,caging my senses
I want us to be free, but I know there is no us,as you are gone, you were never there,
But your shadow brightened the moor,
And I could almost paint an illusion on that drought of life, on the cracked earth,
I dreamt of a meadow, the air breathed life,as wafted your charm awakening my senses,
On the green green grass lay you and I, I and your shadow, And I made love to your soul,
I recited to you a fable of a little girl lost in the meadows,
She wandered, escaping from the ghosts that haunted her home amidst the dark forest,
She found sheep, but she found a soft comfort in the paws of the wolf,
Kindness in his eyes, a warmth penetrated her lost soul,
And then your rare sudden gay laughter, blowing with the breeze,a touch of solace to my soul,
Today I run on the barren land, towards or away, both or neither,
Do I search, do I follow, do I trust my foolish heart, Or do I buy my mind’s sadist rationale?
The harsh winds sting my eyes, tears escape finding their phony mates, to escape unseen is a trick,
I almost welcome the dulling pain succumbing to numbness, but the end, is it here?
I can’t see, but I sense a grim loss settling in on the night, the stars seem too far,
And none twinkling as if to smile, The moon has been hiding far too long,
And the clouds are beginning to invade the sky,
And I have been waiting beneath the darkness, nothingness, to catch a glimpse of the shadow,
But it flitted away before I could see the end, before I could see the darkness,
I want to ask you,
who is the lucky lass who holds your soul in a rapture?
Will you forget me? Has your heart already dusted off my words?
Was the shadow never there? Was it a story I told only the little girl as she lay with me in my solitude?
Were you me?
Did the shadow only fool me, masking itself with your beautiful face,
And were you alive only in the frills of my mind?
Or was the shadow only ever a shadow, never our friend?
There is wish, there is hope, there is want, and none is the other,
You are my wish, as I feel no hope, and I want no rose.
Only a true shadow of friendship that binds you and me,
Coaxing the little girl lovingly to keep wandering in the meadows, away from the house of haunting screeches.
-Musings of a little Girl and a foolish heart