- Joined
- Nov 24, 2007
- Messages
- 4,404
Here's another prose I did quite recently, it's fairly... Personal, really.
But hell, read it if you like, tell me if you like, I'm just really in a mood to share.
Hope you like it.
Broken Bits
Now as my finger trails along the cutting lines of the jagged edge,
Blood seeps through my skin. Intermingling
In tiny threads to become part of the greater web:
A network of cracks along the windows in time.
And as if by design, alternate realities shatter
Along this life of mine. Craving to go back,
To rewind the watch,
I shatter in this gaze, from a resonating image,
Which haunts my conscience,
Mocks my presence
And dares my absence.
Back when our minds combined, to forestall reality in a niche of time,
We became part of the broken glass,
Like bells about to chime. In reverberation,
We blundered through the windows,
Halting our momentum only in times of great regret.
And as ignorant children we reached for the pieces,
Attempting to assemble those moments lost, those moments gone...
The moments never lived.
And we, reminisce,
Remember,
And regret now, what we never get,
As tears fall to mingle with the blood.
We survey ourselves,
Our mirror image, with nothing save resent.
So here we are, you and me, gazing at ourselves in utter misery.
Helpless, hopeless and clueless to know,
Know where we went wrong and how to go back.
Here as our fingers trace the cutting lines of the jagged edge,
We pale in reflection of light,
The light of impossible moments foregone.
And now as the clock comes to a stop,
And all our moments forever unlived, and never forgotten,
We ascend to become faint memory, and, in time,
Nothing at all.
Like broken bits about fall...
Heh, in a weird way, the title actually
complements the structure of the text.
But hell, read it if you like, tell me if you like, I'm just really in a mood to share.
Hope you like it.
Broken Bits
Now as my finger trails along the cutting lines of the jagged edge,
Blood seeps through my skin. Intermingling
In tiny threads to become part of the greater web:
A network of cracks along the windows in time.
And as if by design, alternate realities shatter
Along this life of mine. Craving to go back,
To rewind the watch,
I shatter in this gaze, from a resonating image,
Which haunts my conscience,
Mocks my presence
And dares my absence.
Back when our minds combined, to forestall reality in a niche of time,
We became part of the broken glass,
Like bells about to chime. In reverberation,
We blundered through the windows,
Halting our momentum only in times of great regret.
And as ignorant children we reached for the pieces,
Attempting to assemble those moments lost, those moments gone...
The moments never lived.
And we, reminisce,
Remember,
And regret now, what we never get,
As tears fall to mingle with the blood.
We survey ourselves,
Our mirror image, with nothing save resent.
So here we are, you and me, gazing at ourselves in utter misery.
Helpless, hopeless and clueless to know,
Know where we went wrong and how to go back.
Here as our fingers trace the cutting lines of the jagged edge,
We pale in reflection of light,
The light of impossible moments foregone.
And now as the clock comes to a stop,
And all our moments forever unlived, and never forgotten,
We ascend to become faint memory, and, in time,
Nothing at all.
Like broken bits about fall...
Heh, in a weird way, the title actually
complements the structure of the text.
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