The Life Of A Statue
A broken mind, ever watchful.
Frozen eyes that never see.
Standing tall amidst chaos and corruption
Bitter envy wells up at the lives of others
And the subtlety of life goes unnoticed.
Emotions merely drifting through a cold heart,
Homeless and forgotten through the ages of time,
Struggling before harsh winds and unremitting rain.
The cruel chink of a chisel marked its creation;
A single purpose marking its boundaries,
An unwanted purpose shaping its meaning.
Never befriending a soul or shedding a tear.
Thus: The life of a statue.
yet i have no memory of my past life,
Condemned to endless wandering,
Across the misty shores of time.
Ne'er a friend to take the weight,
Or any one to cease,
The soulless whispering in my head,
Drowing my spirit with dark thoughts of murder.
Frozen tears filled with emotive gleams,
As the Winter takes up its icy grip,
To forever hold me prisoner,
But now i can be at peace,
As the light and dark fade into one,
And my body dies.
Yet my soul remains pure and free...
The True World
Nary a sigh nor a whisper,
Just the cold flicker,
The self sustaining light.
A change in the shallow routine,
The spell, broken.
Beautiful things, previously unseen,
An enduring token.
The colour, the joy,
Of new found freedom.
No wish to destroy,
The vast expansive kingdom.
A world torn asunder,
The true nature revealed,
Rule of mutany and plunder,
Distant memories, a shield.
The returning glory,
The anguished arrival,
The genuine revelry,
Embracing the darkness.
The revelation forgotten,
The fearful withdrawal,
Cold flickers and shadows,
The true world.
( if you want to understand this poem then look up Socrates's Simile of the Cave. i based this poem on that)
Fear Nothing But Fear Itself