Montag, 18. Juni 2012

poem


The Child (for my friend, FirleFanz) Zandor Zane

There is a child that walks amongst the darker side, with an old soul seeking something she shall never find, for it is of a younger moment in time when the roses were in full bloom, not as they are now, blackened in the vase.

For what does this sweet child know of insanity? She plays amongst the ruins of others’ misery hoping to experience life, but how can she? She has not felt the pain of full darkness nor the knives seeking ways of cutting out the future. Maybe once she feels these things, then she will have a small taste of me.

I look into the eyes of this child and see the reason she stays this way, the hurt and the fear of what it is like to grow up. She looks at me and I feel the trembling. Maybe she really sees me.

I know despair and I hear the voices from the deepest corners of my mind, though I desire sanity, it evades me. It is only when I walk amongst moonflowers in the snow do I begin to touch the cloth of peace. It is only when I hear the snow falling amongst the pine, the voices become whispers. Maybe the child hears me.

The only time I know joy is when I am with Esme, sweet goddess of the moon. For she keeps my soul safe from him, my former master, the devourer of my sanity.  But she can’t keep him at bay for long. I yearn for a permanent peace… Maybe this child can help me.

There has been no other to love me, but many have feared me. Then Esme entered my life showing me what love is truly meant to be, a place of peace, of unconditional caring. I glance at the child and see a small glimmer of hope, of desire to be free of ancient fears. Maybe this child could love me.

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