30 May, 2011

A Gift

You tell me I'm a walking contradiction,
that my body defers me from the thoughts of my mind.
My mouth is just a bowl full of lies.
But here, in this moment, if I promised the truth
would you really stop to hear the words of my youth?

Cause realities aren't easily apprehended
And I promise you this is one of them
That in the very moment I saw you, the earth stood.
Everything left me, no longer knowing the meaning of heartache.
Life's detriments buried deep in the wake.

Are you listening my friend?
Do you hear the words that soar from my lips?
Like the dove that once knew how to fly
gracefully, like a child staring up into the sky
That then got shot down by the man with a gun
and never thought she'd reach above.

You came into my world, unknowingly a tornado.
Destroying all that was built upon these false halos.
Leaving nothing but an empty dark tunnel,
but with promises I’d never have to crawl through it alone.
Suddenly okaying all the windblown.

How can something so extraordinary be so wrong
Where was I when you walked along.
Take my awkward words and silence them
Trust my heart that it's been widened.
Open for the moment that you would've allowed me to hide in.

Unbeknownst that I could never have this,
oh the sorrows that I crave to be measureless
The dove gaining her pride and strength again
learning to soar through the sky, no longer a freshman
not afraid of the man or his frightful deathblow
but trusting in hope for a strengthened tomorrow.

This is where I say my afflicting goodbyes
and thank you for all the beautiful moonrise
A beauty that I feared would never be known
Anxiously awaiting my deaths deep silenced tone
yet now with a heart opened, allowing to be shown.

A suffering filled with great anguish,
wishing to tell you, you deserve only to be cherished,
and repay you for all the madness reverted
with words that are easier typed then sown.
A voice once warned ridden, grown.

An inclination known for the best
that I must give to you, my heart's lovely guest.
Not easily awakened, with hopes of conceiving.
The ending to the novelette so well acquainted.
A gift of avoidance; the scandal blighted.