Wednesday, 21 January 2009

Abandoned Beauty.

As he lingers upon the stormy shore,
Laughter lightens the oceans echo;
A memory of a person now settled in stone
A memory of his saviour; his hero.

Nostalgically gazing up to the cliffs,
He hears her scream; her surrender.
He doesn’t care what they say; he lividly runs
To the edge that cursedly ended her.

But it’s too hard to fall to his fate and cry
When the world taught him that love was a lie.

His weathered eyes stare at the turmoil below;
The sea writhing with grabbing hands.
He freezes on the edge of the crumbling cliff
Unable to meet her demands.

The bravery and certainty she must have answered to,
Were a forgery, he realises, that he cannot believe.
The bruised sky releases a dagger of light:
Dangerous yet beautiful. How could he leave?

But it’s too hard to follow her footsteps and cry
When her cold, blind courage teaches him to be shy.

As the sky roars its anger at his indecision,
He roars his frustration that she left him alone.
She asked him to follow her into oblivion;
And he falters as he knows this he cannot condone.

He wishes the world could understand his pain.
He wishes if he cried, someone would come.
He wishes that death could be as easy for him.
He wishes she hadn’t left him so twisted; undone.

But it’s too hard to lose control and cry
When he knows his tears can’t reach the sky.

His thoughts turn to those who would cry for him;
Who would stand on a cliff edge and die for him.
But the thought makes him scream as he pictures their faces
Mortified, screaming; he needs to erase this.

He stumbles away from the edge that took her;
Away from the source of his forbidden torture.
The beauty of the wilderness will heal his wounds;
Will heal the hurt that soars when he thinks of her.

So it’s not hard for him to fall to his knees and cry
When his heartbeat, his smile, means he’s still alive.

Now he feels no urgency as he wanders the wilderness;
An abandoned beauty under darkening skies.
The mountains perceived as tyrant and lonely
Ruggedly beautiful under his searching eyes.

His steps so deliberately in no direction
Dance and leap like lapping waves.
An exhilaration which reminds him of life;
A chapter; a sunrise; a dip in his gaze.

He can’t deny tears when there’s nothing to cry;
The sun has replenished the light in his eyes.

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1 comment:

  1. Sweet picture, the poem really is a great touch, really nice job!